Doom Driven
by YoungConductor
Summary: The Thu'um had the power to reshape reality, but even this was pushing it. A shout from a dying Miraak sends the Last Dragonborn spiraling into another universe, one with its own fair share of troubles. Now Howl must deal with gangs, a seemingly mindless horde of monsters, homework assignments and shadowy organizations that seek to destroy civilization from the inside out.
1. Chapter 1

**Surprise! A new story from yours truly.**

 **Let's all just ignore the fact that I said that I wasn't a huge fan of RWBY in my last story because the latest season changed my mind. Also, I'm going to be arrogant enough to believe that I can add my own spin onto it to make it more enjoyable for myself.**

 **I'm confident that this story will go better because I'll be writing for an original character and because I sort of planned out how it's gonna go.**

 **Anyways, the main character is going to be the Dragonborn, whose past will be revealed gradually as the story progresses, and the pairing will be a surprise. I'll give you a hint though, it's a pairing that I've never written before! Wait- that didn't narrow it down at all...**

 **Oh yeah, I don't own RWBY or the Elder Scrolls series so there's that.**

 **Without further ado, please enjoy my story.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Envoy From a Foreign Land**

* * *

" **FUS RO DAH!** "

The shout that had started His servant's journey resounded throughout His realm like thunder on a silent night, the effects bearing down on His other, more traitorous servant oppressively as he was pressed into the platform with the force of a god. Miraak was a fool, that much was made clear when he had sent his servants to provoke the one being that could defeat him. If there was ever a shout that could encapsulate His servant so perfectly, it would be Unrelenting Force. Ever since he had undertaken his trivial quest to save Tamriel from the grasp of Alduin, nothing had stood in his path; not dragons, not the Dark Brotherhood... not even His fellow Daedric Princes could prevent the doom-driven hero from doggedly pursuing his destiny. Which is exactly why Miraak was so foolish; did he really think that he could defeat the being that had absorbed the souls and knowledge of over a hundred dragons?

The deafening shout had a quiet aftermath, only the sound of fluttering papers and staggering footsteps filled the platform as the Last Dragonborn approached the First. Miraak had no more dragons to hide behind and consume, his soul was now laid bare before his superior. His once elegant (and, dare He say it, fetching) robes were torn and tarnished in several places and his mask was partially destroyed, revealing what must have been a surprisingly plain face to his fellow Dragonborn. He wasn't doing so well either, his torso had numerous cuts and contusions and his right arm hung limply at his side, a side effect from the shoulder wound that was inflicted upon him at the fight's onset. Yet, much like the shout, he progressed forward, pushing aside all obstacles as he progressed forward towards his objective.

He took the scimitar that he had rested idly on his shoulder and flipped it, preparing to stab it downwards into the kneeling body of his foe.

Half-lidded eyes gazed at the downed figure. "Honestly, why would you even want to go back to Tamriel, brother? Place is a shithole... Solstheim is pretty much just an ashy wasteland, definitely not the place you're used to. And don't even get me started on Skyrim, that province could make the Shivering Isles seem stable."

"Surely you jest! You would tire of this wretched hellhole within a matter of hours, much less a day!" cried Miraak as he glared up at the Dragonborn, more of his mask falling apart.

His servant rolled his eyes dismissively as he repositioned his sword onto his shoulder "Calm down you madman, face your death with some dignity. Besides, what's there not to like? You've got books for leagues and even little squid... octopus friends." He leaned down towards Miraak, a mocking grin on his face "Did I mention the books?"

The First balled his hands into fists and slammed them into the platform, wasting the last vestiges of his physical strength in a petulant tantrum "You're not even trying to make this place seem more appealing! Imagine waking up every morning to a tentacle whipping you. And, by the dov! Imagine having to listen to Hermaeus Mora's voice constantly, it's maddening!"

The Dragonborn closed his eyes and nodded pensively "I can see how you would go mad if you had to listen to him yammering on about how he's the Prince of Knowledge for thousands of years. Seriously, does he think he's intimidating when uses that dumb voice? And those tentacles are disgusting, does he cover them with tar? He should be trying to seduce people instead of trying to repulse them..."

Wait. Weren't they supposed to be fighting?

"See! I'm not the only one!" Miraak laughed loudly, extending his arms towards the mass of tentacles in the sky which He was using to observe the two Dragonborn. After thousands of years, Miraak was well-versed in the means his former master used to survey His realm.

He could feel the annoyance growing within Him as His two servants, which were once enemies, continued to bond through their shared annoyance of the voice that He deigned to share with those lesser beings. He supposed it was to be expected as mortals, especially the races of men, were quite willful, a symptom of their short, insignificant lives. Ancient beings such as Himself had to learn to be patient and cautious if they wanted to thrive, though some wielded their power like a troll might use their strength: clumsy and without a higher level of thought.

It was almost time to step in and punish the foolish Miraak for his treachery but even He was curious to see how the two Dragonborn would interact with each other before the traitorous dragon priest would meet his end...

"I know what you're thinking right now: No matter what he says, I'm not truly his servant, I'm just using him for my own gains." Miraak didn't bother to look at the Dragonborn for confirmation before continuing "I once thought like that as well. His sweet, yet vexing whispers filled my ears as I used his magic and his gifts to the point where I slowly became dependent on them. Like a fool, I began to trust him despite my previous inhibitions. When the time came and all his poisoned gifts failed me and I cried out for his help, all he had to do was wait until I was helpless to fully ensnare me in his grasp."

"Of course, that doesn't have to happen to you..." Miraak looked down, concealing the manic grin spreading across his face from both of his spectators "You see, there are some things that even Hermaeus Mora doesn't know. He gifted me many a shout, that is true, but there are some that I created as well!"

"Huh? What are you tal-" The Last Dragonborn recoiled, brandishing his sword in an attempt to prepare for whatever Miraak had up his sleeves.

But it was all for naught. Even the legendary Skyforge steel couldn't stop the shout of a dragon.

" **VAAZ NOL LEIN!** "

One second he was there, the next he was gone, His servant didn't stand a chance. There was no dramatic tear in the fabric of the universe, there was nary a sound. Much like the Dwemer of old, he had simply disappeared. His previous annoyance seemed like the petty complaints of a child as it turned into anger and He manifested a tentacle to punish His traitorous servant.

" **What have you done?** " He growled out as He let His righteous fury seep into His tone.

"Come now, my lord, surely with all your knowledge you must know the meaning of those words." Miraak choked out mockingly, the tentacle piercing through his gut making it slightly more troublesome to communicate "Vaaz: to tear. Nol: from. Lein is much more abstract, but- it essentially means the universe. I'll assume that you know the implication of those words when put together."

He didn't allow His emotions to overwhelm Him as He twisted the tentacle within Miraak, finishing him off in a most painful manner. Of course not, He was much more dignified than His brutish cousins. He watched the blood pool around his corpse as the tentacle was withdrawn. It would surely begin to rot as his flesh and organs remained due to his soul not being absorbed by the Dragonborn.

He was loath to admit but even if He was the Daedric Prince of Knowledge, there were bounds to His knowledge, one example being knowledge from other realities, universes or even dreams, if you would.

That's why, as His Seekers emerged from the depths around the platform to dispose of the body and He stared at the spot where the Dragonborn once existed, He felt something He rarely felt.

Envy.

 _ **QUEST FAILED**_ **:** **At the Summit of Apocrypha.**

* * *

 _ **QUEST STARTED**_ **: Unbound.**

"Hey you. You're finally awake."

Where had he heard those words before? Right, the beginning of his journey that transformed him from a savage Reachman into a (semi)heroic Dragonborn. Was that the effect of Miraaks' miracle shout, then? To send him back in time? It didn't fit with the literal meaning of the words but, then again, Dovahzul was nothing if not an abstract language. Even now, after having absorbed the souls of many dov, Howl still needed to meditate on most words in order to understand their true meaning.

"Hey, I saw your eyes move under your eyelids, I know you're awake. Quit pretending to be asleep."

The voice decidedly did not sound like it belonged to a musclebound Nord named Ralof so perhaps the shout hadn't sent him back in time. Come to think of it, the surface he was laying on didn't feel like a poorly-driven, splinter-filled Imperial wagon. Perhaps the shout was a fluke and it simply sent him back to Nirn...

Howl opened his eyes and immediately sighed as he was greeted by the sight of a ceiling of iron (or some other sort of metal) bars; it seemed like he had to begin every journey as a prisoner, much like the other heroes recorded throughout Tamriel's history. The ceiling was covered by some sort of material so he couldn't tell what time of day it was, but judging by the darkness outside the cage, it was either a cloud-filled night or they were in some sort of dungeon.

"Welcome back the land of the living, well... I wouldn't say entirely living with all those wounds you have. Man, they must've roughed you up good." said the voice to his right.

"Where am I?" asked Howl as he reluctantly sat up and looked to his right, finding a woman with... "Deer antlers?"

Her brown eyes narrowed and her tone grew defensive "What? You got a problem with faunus?"

"What's a faunus?" he asked in confusion, attempting to scratch his head but finding that his right arm was still unresponsive; one of his tendons must have been severed.

Truthfully, the concept of men with animal-like features wasn't too surprising to Howl, many members of his former tribe had animalistic features such as fangs due to the wolfsblood granted to them by the Glenmoril Coven, he had even heard of Khajiit who could pass themselves off as men, or something close to men.

The faunus woman's tone softened, or at least morphed into confusion as she responded to his question "You've never heard of faunus before? Were you born under a rock or something?"

"Actually, yes." Howl was familiar with the expression but he literally was born under a rock. "And you never answered my question, where are we?"

"We're at Brothers' Refuge or, at least, what remains of it after the White Fang attacked." said the woman darkly, malice seeping into her tone "Now the village is as good as destroyed thanks to those bastards..."

"Come on Carmen, the White Fang would never betray the faunus, we both know that." said a boy obnoxiously in some other corner of the cage.

"Then what the hell are we, idiot? Cause they sure as shit betrayed us!" said Carmen with a shake of her head "You listen to Chester too much, he was probably the one that betrayed us and deactivated the defenses for them."

Howl gazed idly around as the pair descended into an argument, the cage seemed chock full of those faunus though there seemed to be some men as well. He wasn't too intrigued by this White Fang, they appeared to be like any of the bandit groups or cults that inhabited Tamriel except for the fact that they seemed to have some sympathizers among the faunus population if the boy was anything to go by. He frowned as he noticed that his captors took his enchanted rings, his sword, his satchel and even his amulet of Akatosh, did this White Fang group have no respect for the Divines? By the Nine, they even took his boots!

"Hey, don't worry. We'll get out of here, Vale's bound to notice if one of the mining villages go off the grid." Carmen said with a comforting smile that no doubt betrayed her own feelings of despair "What's your name?"

"Howl."

"Howl? What a strange name..."

"Hmph, how rude. You should be grateful, it's actually the translated version of a much stranger name."

Any retort was cut off as they interrupted by the guard who finally decided to make an appearance.

"Hey! What the hell is with all this noise, y'all better not be trying to plan an escape!" shouted the painfully generic guard as he banged on the bars to startle his prisoners. His face was concealed by a hood and a mask with bright red eye slits, he was very tall and very buff, no doubt a dumb brute sent to intimidate the prisoners and keep trouble away from the main camp. What may have been a menacing ensemble was betrayed by the wagging dog-tail sticking out of the back of his pants, signifying the fact that he was likely one of those faunus and that he was happy for some reason. Maybe he got off on scaring innocent, little prisoners such as himself.

Howl's stomach growled, making him regret having his satchel stripped of him. He tried to think of the last time he ate which made him even hungrier and his stomach even louder. If it meant starving himself to death he didn't feel like playing the prisoner and gathering information anymore, it was time to enact Escape Plan #1.

"H-hey, what's the new guy doing?"

"Is he crazy?"

"Is that asshole trying to get us all killed?"

Howl could only express his disappointment internally as he partially listened to the frenzied whispers surrounding him as he made his way towards the guard, were all faunus of such little faith? Their lives couldn't be in better hands. Or hand, considering his injury. He couldn't really tell because of the mask, but if Howl had to guess, the guard seemed bemused as his injured form progressed further and further towards the bars. That was good, if he wasn't threatened then he wouldn't be prepared for what was about to come.

"What's up with you, huh? Think you can take me on through these bars, little man?"

Howl stared into the slits of the guard's mask, careful not to let the annoyance he was feeling slip into his expression. It wasn't his fault he was short, he didn't have any control over how tall he was. Then, suddenly, he dropped to the ground and groveled like the horse thief from Rorikstead. Escape Plan #1 had begun.

A giant collective "Huh?" came from his audience, including the massive guard for whom he was currently prostrating himself for.

"Please! Please you have to let me out of here, brother!" Howl cried out, tears pouring out of his eyes as he looked up at the guard "I'm not even with them, I don't belong in a cage like the rest of these people!"

"Is this guy serious?!"

He subtly ran his eyes over the guard's body and silently cursed as he realized that he wasn't carrying the keys to cage on him, it was beginning to look like he was going to have to take a more direct approach in his escape strategy.

The guard rubbed his chin mockingly as if he were seriously contemplating letting him go. "That is true, you don't really belong with these fuckers now do you? Then again, the way you showed on our perimeter all wounded, you probably tried to fight through a bunch of grimm. You tried to save them, didn't you? I can't let you out of here if that's the case." he said with a careless shrug.

Howl stood up from the ground and laughed sheepishly "Heh, you got me!" Suddenly, as quick as a flash, his eyes narrowed dangerously and his hand shot out of the bars, gripping the guard by his neck. "I am trying to save them." Not his best response, but it worked nonetheless.

He then slammed the guard's face into the bars, strong enough to shatter his mask but, apparently, not strong enough to knock him out. "Oh, you weren't taken out by that? Let me try again."

"Wait- no! Help!"

Howl slammed his face into the bar again, again, once more, another time and again before the guard was knocked out. His victim even resorted to calling out to the prisoners for help, for all the good that did him.

The Dragonborn turned back to the rest of the prisoners with a heroic smile and thumb up but was only greeted by looks of horror. Come to think of it, some blood did spray onto his face...

Carmen was the first to speak up "You moron! He didn't even have keys! Now we're trapped in here, one of the other guards is going to come back and see him and then they're going to slaughter us!"

Howl picked one of his ears, checking for any physical damage from her shout "I'm sorry but you're going to have to be a little quieter, sister, wouldn't want to attract any more guards now would you?"

Carmen grit her teeth, creating a grinding noise that emanated throughout the cage "I'm not the one that dealt with the guard in the loudest way possible."

"Don't you worry, I'll get us all out of here, just sit back and watch." he said with a confident grin only to receive several death glares from the despairing prisoners. Apparently, they didn't appreciate his bravado.

"How... how could you possibly do that?" she muttered despondently, preparing for her death with a prayer.

"Like so. **FEIM!** "

Much to the wonder of the prisoners surrounding him, Howl's figure turned spectral and walked through the bars of the cage. He relished the feeling of some of his cuts healing before the shout faded shortly, leaving him in his weakened mortal form. He knelt by the body of the guard and relieved him of his sword, testing its balance and weight. Howl nodded satisfactorily, it wasn't Skyforge steel but it would do. He then turned towards the door of the cage and broke the lock in one strike, freeing his fellow prisoners.

The prisoners shuffled out one by one, unsure of themselves as they seized their freedom, some nodded their thanks while most kept their heads down and were careful to step over the body of the prison guard (though some took some liberties as revenge for his cruel treatment.) Carmen was the last one out, her shoulders seemed less tense and she looked to the ground demurely, avoiding Howl's gaze.

"Thank you..." she muttered.

Howl shook his head, a couple of loose strands of hair fell over his face.

"Don't thank me yet, there's still the rest of the bandits to take out before you're free." he said as he blew the strands out of his eyes with an annoyed huff.

"Bandits?"

"Can you do me a favor?" he asked without waiting for a response, it was the type of question that wasn't really a question, just an order disguised as one "Stay out of my way while I get rid of the rest of them, I don't want any of you to get hurt because of me."

"So what? We're just supposed to stand by while you take the White Fang on by yourself? Who cares if you can turn into a ghost or whatever, you shouldn't be taking them lightly!"

"Fine." he said with a sigh "If you really want to help, gather any weapons you can and free the rest of the prisoners, if there are any. If you're finished with that before I dispatch the rest of them, then you can help out."

"But-"

Howl looked back at her with a grin as he marched forward "Trust me; I can do a lot more than turn into a ghost. Now get!"

Tall buildings and twisted trees as silent as the dead surrounded Howl. Though he could see some sources of light in the distance, it remained mostly pitch black as the moon hid behind the cover of the clouds as if anticipating the bloodshed that would soon occur. He idly rested the stolen blade on his shoulder as he walked through the husk of a village. It certainly wasn't a dungeon, nor was it in Skyrim either, the architecture was simply too advanced: if it were a village in Skyrim it would be comprised of huts with thatched roofs, not sturdily constructed buildings made out of brick. Perhaps Miraak's shout had sent him forward in time, or maybe it even sent him to a different continent like Akavir. Come to think of it, he did see some snake-like humans; were those supposed to be the fabled Tsaesci that he had read about?

"Hey! Is that one of the prisoners? How'd he get out?"

Howl was torn out of his reverie as he noticed several White Fang pointing and shouting at him. Maybe it was a symptom of his arrogance, but he tended to space out while walking around, even in bandit camps, much to the distress of his companions. Would it be former companions now that he had no idea when or where he was? That idea disturbed him so he chose to save it for a later date when he was in a more convenient position to experience an emotional breakdown.

"He's totally spacing out right now, who does he think we are?"

He shook his head, forcing himself out of his thoughts. "Sorry, I got lost, could you point me towards the privy?"

They looked at him in disbelief and he stared right back before he realized he was supposed to be eliminating them for the other prisoners.

" **YOL TOOR SHUL!** "

A torrent of flame spouted out of Howl's mouth and eviscerated the White Fang lackeys in his path, turning them into ash. He sighed despondently as he watched the rest of the flames devour benches and crates; more lives lost due to the path of greed and villainy.

' _Curse you Divines, for creating men with such inhibitions'_ thought Howl despondently (read: sarcastically), as he looted what remained of their bodies for any valuables.

"Wha- What the hell?!" and a loud bang was all he heard before he felt a massive amount of pain erupt in his right shoulder. He turned around and saw another White Fang member, one that wasn't a ransacked pile of ash, one that was holding some sort of device with a smoking barrel. Howl didn't have time to marvel at the foreign technology, though, and dived out of the path of the weapon as the henchman fired another shot. Was it some sort of advanced crossbow, perhaps a Dwemer invention- he dove out of the way once more before firing off another Fire Breath shout to prevent the White Fang member from interrupting his ruminations any further.

Howl didn't even have a moment to breathe before the forms of several other White Fang members seemed to melt out of the shadows, each with a malicious grin on their face as they surrounded their prey. The biggest one, most likely the leader, stepped out last, his apparel was unique from the mask and hood combo that served as the White Fang uniform. Instead, he left his chest bare, exposing the numerous battle scars that dotted his torso. He was a wolf faunus, judging by the one ear that poked out of his grey hair, the other looked like it was gnawed off by a rabid dog; not unlikely considering the company he kept. Howl ignored them for a moment, instead electing to rummage through the corpse of his latest victim, he felt comfortable doing so because he knew that the leader would likely perform some sort of monologue to inflate his own ego. Perhaps something along the lines of how his men served as the perfect bait for a fool like Howl, or how he had planned this trap for any of the prisoners if they escaped.

"Heh, did you really think your escape attempt wouldn't be noticed by the commander of the White Fang's Seventeenth Faction: the Grey Demon, Lloyd Farrand!"

Howl cursed silently, he forgot how bandit leaders liked to brag about any of their titles.

"Do you always talk in the third person? And only the Seventeeth Faction huh? That must mean that you're pretty low on the food chain, right?"

"You bastard... " Apparently he wasn't one of the villains that liked to banter before battle. "Everyone get your guns out, we're gonna make him regret ever messing with the White Fang and then we're going to kill the rest of those fucking prisoners!"

' _Guns... so that's what they're called._ ' If they were going to surround them while using those strange weapons, then he had the perfect shout to counter their attack. The trouble was using it at the right moment, that sweet spot right before they-

"FIRE!"

Or they could just announce when they would attack, Howl certainly wasn't going to complain.

" **FEIM ZII!** "

The sound of his shout intermingled with the sound of twenty-ish guns going off at the same time leaving little distinction between the two. The cacophony of the two competing noises was followed by the sound of those twenty-ish guns dropping to the floor along with their owners as their leader looked on in shock, his dangerous reputation abandoning him after having watched his men get mowed down by each other. His eyes had even developed an unhealthy twitch.

"I should be thanking you for that, brother, I hate fighting and you made this process go by oh-so-quickly! Thank the Divines for those guns you speak of, am I right?" said Howl casually as he returned to his mortal form, several of his wounds having been healed by the effects of the shout.

He sighed when the Grey Demon didn't respond, so he decided to just put him out of his misery with a quick slash from the stolen sword. If he was going to be honest, Howl hated fighting so he always tried to end his battles quickly, even if it meant spilling more blood. Maybe if he had used a show of force, the White Fang would've backed down but there were risks to that mindset too. Placing your hopes of peace in the hands of criminals and leaving a wound to fester would only lead to more trouble, in his eyes. He knew for certain that if instead of parading that bastard, Ulfric, all the way down to the Imperial City, they had executed him on the spot, the Civil War could've been avoided altogether. But what did he know? He was just the man that ended the war single-handedly.

Howl sighed once more, he had to refrain from that line of thinking, such prideful thoughts could lead to him falling to his baser instincts, the ones given to him by his dragonblood. Besides, he still had the rest of his equipment to find and the rest of the White Fang to kill.

* * *

 ** _QUEST COMPLETED_ : UNBOUND.**

Howl sighed in frustration as his attempts at any sort of spellcraft failed miserably, he simply did not have the magicka required to perform even the most basic healing spell, although he supposed that the village's healers (apparently called doctors there) did a wonderful job of treating his wounds without the use of magic. Still, the lack of magicka was troubling; if anything, it only served to strengthen his theory that Miraak's shout had worked as intended. If he had remained within his original universe, he still would've been connected to Aetherius and thus would've had no trouble regenerating his low reserves.

As usual, though, he saved such troublesome thoughts for when he was on the privy and instead picked out his wardrobe, heroes had to look dashing after all. Howl decided to stick with the same short, enchanted robes that made him identifiable as the Dragonborn to the citizens of Skyrim, the dark green fabric seemed darker at night but the silver dragon script that ran along the edges still looked as radiant as ever; say what you want about Taarie and Endarie, but they could make some damn fine clothes. He also decided to stick with the loose grey trousers that he usually donned but instead of tucking them into boots like he always did, Howl went with sandals due to the warmer weather. As usual, he kept his trusty scimitar sheathed across the back of his waist with a black sash holding it in place.

While he mopped up with the main White Fang groups the rest of the prisoners armed themselves and wiped out any of the stragglers and freed anyone who remained. Howl didn't know why they didn't just try to fend off the terrorist, pseudo-bandit group in the first place, but he wasn't one to judge, it all worked out in the end anyway...

Though the villagers had won a key victory and had secured their freedom for the time being, the mood among the adults was more pessimistic than cheerful as they had learned that they would have to abandon their homes for the time being. Apparently, they had managed to repair a device called the radio which allowed them to communicate with people over long distances but were unable to repair the defenses that protected the village from the beings known as Grimm which, in this universe, posed a great threat to humanity and whatever the collective term for the faunus was. Using the radio, they informed the authorities of the land of their situation and were able to secure reinforcements to aid in the repair and reinforcement of their defenses but, much to their irritation, they would also be sent to aid in their evacuation. Much like the previous universe, the inhabitants seemed more keen on preserving what they had rather than focusing on personal safety.

The mood among the children of the village was decidedly more joyous. Unlike the adults who were either moping or preparing for the long voyage to the town of Lantana, which held the nearest military base, the tykes decided to crowd around the Dragonborn and badger him for details on his battle with the White Fang.

"So, Mister Howl, are you a hunter?"

"Hm, what's a hunter?" asked Howl, idly adjusting the straps of his satchel as he waited for the Bullheads (some form of transportation) that would take them to Lantana to arrive.

"You know, it's the heroes that protect the people of the different kingdoms from the Grimm."

"Alright, what makes you think I'm one of them then?" he asked with a bemused smile on his face, still not truly paying attention.

"You can use aura, that's how you turned into a ghost." said the boy matter-of-factly.

Howl looked down at the boy, now actually interested "Aura?"

"Yeah, that's how they use all their fancy semblance?"

"Semblance?" he asked, his confusion and curiosity growing at each elaboration.

Any further enlightenment was cut off as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over to his right and saw Carmen pointing up towards the sky with a melancholic smile on her face.

"You can find out more at Lantana, there's bound to be some real huntsmen over there."

Howl looked up to where she was pointing and saw a group of flying contraptions that would make the Dwemer green with envy heading towards them, framed by a single, shattered moon.

Yep, definitely not in Skyrim anymore.

 _ **QUEST STARTED:**_ **On the Hunt**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **So that was a thing...**

 **As you can probably tell, this story is going to have some humor in it, or at least, my attempts at humor. It was originally going to be more serious, Howl was going to be more of a solemn knight-like character who was going to be transported to the RWBYverse after losing to the Thalmor who succeed in their goal of destroying the boundaries between Nirn and Aetherius. But then I rewatched Fullmetal Alchemist: Brother and was influenced by Ling Yao's character and I also decided that that would've been a depressing start to the story.**

 **I guess this story has a bit of Gintama influencing it too with how comedically Howl treats some of his fights and interactions with his enemies.**

 **In terms of how frequently I'm going to update, I'm not going to stick to a schedule because then it'll start to feel like work. Instead, I'll just update whenever I've finished a chapter or once I've built up my backlog.**

 **Anyways, please review, even if it's to troll or flame me, I really appreciate any feedback and I'm sure that you will too after I use it to improve my writing. Also, feel free to send me pm's about the story or any suggestions you might have. I'd be really glad to answer any questions you might have about my story.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it, see you next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone, here's the second chapter of Doom Driven.**

 **Progressing with the story a bit while also looking back at the past, as I like to do.**

 **Before you all read, I really need a beta reader for this story, so if anyone could point me to one of those, I would be eternally grateful and I'm sure you would be too after seeing my improved writing.**

 **As always, I don't own Elder Scrolls or RWBY.**

 **Chapter 2: A Crow and a Dragon Walk Into a Bar**

* * *

Perhaps if a different die had been cast he would've been born into a life of leisure, perhaps he could've been the son of a noble, he would've even taken the life of a farmer even with the hardships they generally experienced. However, ever since he was born, the boy's world had been one of brutality and bloodshed, not of sweet rolls or labor.

That day was no different as the smoke coming from Kolskeggr Mine loomed in the background along with the cries of its former inhabitants. Sceamhail tried to ignore their pleas for help as his fellow tribesmen engaged in all sorts of savagery, whether it be rape, murder or even flaying. Sometimes he wished he could've been born just like any of the other members in his tribe but, for some reason, Hircine had decided that he would be given a set of morals to accompany his tribal identity, (although a quiet, indulgent part of his mind whispered that it was the Divines that gifted him their values.)

He heard the pounding of feet behind him as one of the miners tried to escape yet Sceamhail would let him go with a shake of his head. Surely the people who lived in the Reach must've known by now that running and fighting back only made them more appealing as breeding candidates for his tribesmen as they believed that that fierceness would be passed on to their offspring and thus make the tribe stronger. That's how his father had been chosen: he was just a Redguard who, unfortunately, happened to be from Sanuarach Mine, one of the earliest settlements to be raided by the Forsworn. He decided to be courageous (or cowardly depending on your perspective) and tried to escape his fate at the hands of the tribe that had sworn themselves to the Glenmoril Coven. Sceamhail's mother, or rather, the woman who gave birth to him had enjoyed that hunt so much that she decided to keep him as her little plaything until she got bored of him and sent his corpse floating down the Karth River.

The tribesman stared bitterly at his reflection in the river, if he was a good man he would have escaped his tribe long ago or he would have even tried to take out the leaders that guided their tribe and provided them with their animalistic power. Instead, all he could do was curse the boy staring back at him with dull, silvery grey eyes and continue with his savage lifestyle. Sceamhail traced the tattoos that were carved into his face, a permanent marker of his tribal status, and wondered what the point of having them was if they were going to end up being covered by blood and mud anyways.

When his fellow Reachmen had set up their own kingdom in Markarth, they had tried so hard to seem civilized and become accepted among the Imperial provinces, they had even allowed the adoption of the Divines as a form of worship. But all of that came crumbling down the moment they were usurped by Ulfric Stormcloak and his militia; they returned to the Old Ways, the worship of Daedra and other nature gods espoused by the Hagravens, tore down what little repute they had and sealed their fates. Sceamhail tried to but ultimately couldn't understand the Forsworn. They clung to the Old Ways and their savage identities despite the fact that it could only lead to their ruin. They believed that, by using a savage form of warfare, they could retake their homes from the Nordic bastards that had cast them out, but, by doing so, they were only proving them right. Stormcloak had taken Markarth back for Jarl Igmund, swayed by his claims of the monstrosity of the Reachmen and the promises of free Talos worship and the Forsworn's actions only served to prove the ignorant Nords right.

His dark thoughts were disturbed as his reflection was distorted by ripples of water, he looked to his right and frowned as a victim from their attack on the mine floated carelessly down the stream, their corpse facing upwards to the sky with pale, unseeing eyes. Sceamhail watched apathetically as the body got snagged on a small grouping of rocks right in front of him, he wondered if whatever gods were out there were mocking him as the eyes looked into his own. He was tempted to poke it free with his sword and send it on its way, sparing it from any further degradation at the hands of his brethren, but as he was pulling the crude weapon from his belt, something caught his eye. He kneeled down and winced at the sound of his knees cracking, his eyes traced the corpse remorsefully, taking in the beat up banded iron armor. What drew him in most was the amulet hanging around its neck, the string holding it together held beads of various, earthy colors while the metal was a shiny bronze. He untied the amulet to examine it closer, his grubby fingers traced the draconic figure swallowing a sword and realized that it was an Amulet of Akatosh as the dragon and sword formed an hourglass in the center.

He quickly stored the amulet in a pouch with a jump as he heard footsteps approaching him from behind, the worship of the Divines was explicitly banned in his tribe and punishment was severe; it was rare but some of his tribesmen had been converted in the past and had been convinced to attempt to escape with their prisoners.

"Ho! So even the apostate Shady sinks to our level, does he? You find any riches?" said the figure with a thick brogue as they sat down next to Sceamhail.

He looked to his left with a scowl and saw his fellow tribesman, Crobh. His copper hair still managed to shine despite it being interspersed with mud and his face still managed to look cheerful and inviting despite it being covered with the tribalistic tattoos and blood. His wiry torso was covered with faded scars and was only partially covered by the standard wolf-fur cloak of their tribe. Sceamhail didn't understand why Crobh decided to befriend him, out of all of his tribesmen he was the one that had a legitimate reason to despise him. Despite not being faithful to the beliefs of the tribe, the brown-haired Forsworn was still their best warrior and there were even whispers that he would be chosen to be "gifted" the wolfsblood next full moon. Crobh was the second best warrior and far more faithful yet, despite being more worthy of the gift, still approached him as a friend would instead of with envy.

Their tribe, on the other hand, despised Sceamhail, cursing his name and calling him weak because of his morals and relative compassion for their victims. They called him Shady and refused to even acknowledge his name due to the belief that they might be betrayed by him one day. Yet despite all of their curses, they deferred to the shamans who ruled over their tribe and Crobh, who was seen as a truer member of the Forsworn.

"Aye, just a few septims." said Sceamhail quietly, not sure of what else he should say in reply.

"I still don't know why you collect that shite, it's not like any of us are merchants." Crobh scratched his chin in confusion, creating a slight rustling noise due to his fledgling beard.

"We might not have any now but when we capture Markarth, we will and I'll be the richest man in the tribe, brother."

"So you think that's what the hags are after?" he asked quietly.

Sceamhail sighed before explaining "Anyone with a map and an ear to the ground can tell that that's what our objective is. We've been slowly taking their mines and closing off Markarth's supply lines so that we can sever the connection between the Nords and their Imperial masters."

Crobh laughed and clapped his fellow tribesmen in the back as a horn blew back at the mine "And that's why you'll be the one to receive the wolfsblood, brother, not me. I don't have a mind for all this shite, I was born to fight, not plan out wars."

Sceamhail scowled in annoyance at the gesture as he stood up and followed his fellow tribesman back to the camp, leaving the corpse to float down the Karth River, all but forgotten.

* * *

 _A golden light bathed the frozen, mountainous landscape as a dark figure emerged from the inky sky. The old, grey one woke from his slumber and watched in resignation as his brother emerged from the currents of time to dominate the world. A rich feast and a fulfilled fate might have awaited him had he stayed true to his purpose as the World-Eater yet he appealed to his baser instincts and set out on his brutish quest of domination.  
_

 _The old one looked towards him with the pale, unseeing eyes of a dead man and spoke in an ancient voice " **This is your**_ **dez** _ **\- your fate. You seek an escape from the covenant of your birth, yet**_ **Bormah _\- my father has already given it to you. It is yours to take and only yours to lose."_**

 _His view changed as he suddenly became airborne. Trees, streams and crags seemed like the toys of a child as he sped towards the grey town on the hill. It was well foritified but that would matter not to the tinvaak of a dovah. He crashed down onto the tallest tower and gazed down at the ant-like mortals gathered below him. He sneered mockingly as the dov on their banners paled in comparison to their master. The ants noticed his presence as they pointed up at him and shouted, he roared in response sending them sprawling to the ground before his power. In response they fired their puny arrows at them but they weren't even powerful enough to pierce his scales. He couldn't let that go unpunished, though, so he retaliated by calling a storm that would level their hovels._

 _A signpost with Helgen printed on it barely withstood his assault._

 _He allowed a monstrous grin to form on his snout before going back out on the hunt. The Nord heroes had failed, he was finally back to conquer the world and none would stop him._

 _The scene faded and he stood before the old dragon again, he seemed older though, perhaps sadder._

 _" **Kaan and Bormah have gifted you the means to rise above your identity as a Jul, your fate is to save the world not ravage it. Whether you follow it is up to you now.** "_

* * *

Sceamhail ran his thumb over the Amulet of Akatosh as he calmed his breathing in the cool, humid air of the night. Most of the camp was asleep by the time he had woken up from his dream, exhausted from the debauchery that they had taken part in, although some guards remained vigilant among the boundaries of their fortifications.

The calm nights after their frequent, rampant bouts of destruction were perfect for him to relax and reflect upon the day's events or anything else that occurred, the only noises that accompanied him were the chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls. Though it was misty, there were no clouds to restrict the influence of Secunda and Masser as they bathed the encampment in filtered moonlight which he was thankful for as campfires weren't allowed in raids close to Markarth itself.

The soft metal had a calming effect on Sceamhail as he thought about the dream that seemed both welcoming yet foreboding, he visualized the old dragon that had attempted to communicate with him in his ancient tongue and the monster that had unleashed destruction that would make his tribe's matrons salivate. Was he foolish to perhaps think that it was a sign? All his life he had been begging to whatever gods that would listen to free him from the Forsworn and, in his most dire moment, in comes a body with the amulet of the most powerful Divine that seemed to gift him with the dream. While the Forsworn generally did forbid the worship of the divine, they weren't foolish enough to deny their existence or their power. However, were they powerful enough to directly interact with the mortal world, or was it just fate that had called out to him? Was it fate that reminded him that he was the one that was in control of his own destiny? That, if he wanted to escape the Forsworn, he had to take matters into his own hands instead of relying on Hircine or the Divines?

He gazed at the distant palisade and thought about how easy it would be to just sneak past the guards and just start walking, had it always been that simple? He would be betraying his tribe and his only friend- his brother really and he would never be able to return to the misty hills of the Reach once word got around of his defection. But all he had to do was one selfish, thoughtless act and he would be free, though the shackles on his face would remain as a sign to everyone else that he was not to be trusted, that he was a Reachman savage.

His first steps felt heavy as the hesitation weighed him down, but each one became easier and he soon found himself walking towards where the prisoners were kept, almost if he was in a trance. His mind conjured up images of redemption as traitorous thoughts of freedom filled his head; he would begin his journey of absolution by preventing others from sharing the burden he kept by being born into that tribe of savages.

Sceahail idly picked a couple of daggers on his way to the pens where the prisoners were kept, the locks would be easy to pick but they still needed some way to protect themselves from the fierce warriors of his tribe.

They were a sorry lot, the weight of their assumed fate and their defeat weighed deeply on their shoulders, some looked at Sceamhail defiantly while most simply looked to the ground, as if they accepted the fact that they would be killed by their captors. He wondered what his father looked like when he had been captured but banished those thoughts from his head as nothing would come of them now that he was abandoning his tribe. Not that Morrigan, the woman who had given birth to him, would indulge his curiosity had he remained.

He took one last look at the rest of the camp and the only family he had ever known before turning back to the captives and taking a deep breath.

"Your best chance at escaping would be when the guards switch off from their shifts, that's when they'll be the most sluggish whether it be from exhaustion or from waking. And if you fail to escape, you might as well take your own lives, they like to keep those who fight back..."

The harshness of his words betrayed the giddiness he felt as he slid the daggers through the bars of their makeshift prison and picked the lock. The door opened without a sound and the prisoners shuffled out, equally as silent. Most stood around the pens, unsure of what to do but two of them, an Orc and an Imperial, approached Sceamhail, they appeared to be the leaders of the group.

The Imperial spoke up "I'm the owner of this mine, or I was…" he shook his head "Thank you for giving us this chance."

Sceamhail shook his head and crossed his arms "You shouldn't be thanking me, Imperial, I was one of the ones who put you in this position in the first place."

The owner's eyes narrowed in anger "I won't forget what you savages did to my workers but I can't afford to hold on to every grudge I have now, can I? I've got to focus on getting my people back to Markarth and warning the Jarl."

The tribesman nodded in acceptance before walking to the boundaries of the encampment, feeling the eyes of his former victims on him as he disappeared into the mist and shadows. He had done all he could for them just like how the dream had done all it could for him, now it was time for both him and the group to rely on themselves to become free.

It was almost absurd how easy it was to sneak past the tribesmen guarding the camp, apparently, they hadn't taken into account the possibility of one of their own people using their tactics against them. They apparently hadn't taken into account the possibility of anybody sneaking past them _at all_ as they were nursing several bottles of Black-Briar Mead, no doubt taken from the mines. The prisoners would no doubt sneak past them easily unless they chose to engage the watchmen directly in combat.

Sceamhail walked down the misty road towards the direction which he hoped was east, a heavy melancholy beginning to weigh down heavily on his soul as he abandoned his people and the Reach. They were his family after all, no matter how cruel or barbaric they were, he had grown up into that culture. But as he headed further and further east, the night shrouding his movements, the mist began to clear revealing wide, sweeping valleys. The dew sparkled beneath the light of the two moons and his silver eyes were alit with hope as he relished in the feeling of his newfound freedom.

' _Thank you, Akatosh._ '

* * *

Qrow downed the glass of whiskey with the ease of an alcoholic, relishing in the warm feeling that spread across his body. He lay his head on the cool wooden surface of the bar and let out a ragged sigh. Taking these long, cross-continent trips for Ozpin during the middle of the school year and leaving behind his family was stressful but he supposed it was worth it if he made sure _she_ was safe from the enemy.

'And all the waitresses…' he thought with a goofy grin hidden by his forearms.

"Ah, excuse me, brother?" said a deep, broguish voice from behind him.

He turned around to look at whoever interrupted his binge drinking session and took in his appearance, trying to gauge his intentions. He was a lot shorter than he expected, maybe around one or two inches shorter than his darling niece, Yang. Tribalistic tattoos spread across his face along with some scars but it was his eyes that made Qrow pause: they were a similar shade of silver to Ruby's but the dark circles around them made them seem older and more tired. The kid had medium-length dark brown hair swept back out of his eyes and had a deep tan that seemed to be more of a product of his parents rather than his environment. All of his features along with his unique, elaborate clothes pointed to one possible conclusion: that he was the kid that had rescued all of those White Fang prisoners who had arrived in town recently.

He decided to play it cool for now.

"Whaddaya want?" Qrow slurred out in a drunken rasp.

The kid didn't seem disturbed by the rank, alcoholic odor of his breath as he scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile "Sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if you were a hunter."

"HHmm, what makes you think I'm a hunter?"

"Part of it has to do with the weapon sheathed at your hip, to be honest. The other is more of a guess really, the best warriors all seem to dress in something that makes them distinct from everyone else and, from my understanding, hunters seem to be the best warriors."

"You got one thing right, I suppose, hunters are supposed to be distinctive but we're not warriors, kid, we're protectors." said Qrow.

"So you're a hunter? Great. Do you think you could do a favor for me?" said the kid, ignoring his philosophical mistake with a lopsided grin, revealing prominent canines.

"I guess so…" said Qrow hesitantly, internally groaning as he realized that he wouldn't be drinking for a while if that kid had his way. "And it's huntsman, kid, not hunter. We hunt Grimm, not deer."

The kid accepted his flawless logic with a thoughtful nod before asking "I was wondering if you could tell me about aura, that's what huntsmen use, right?"

"Huh? That's all you wanted from me? That's something you can find in a textbook or the internet, you didn't need to come all the way out to this fine establishment."

He waved his hand dismissively at Qrow's statement "That's true, but I want to learn from the source, someone who's an expert in the field, not just a scholar."

Qrow had to admit that the kid was good at flattery "Whatever, aura... hmm, how do I explain this? Aura is basically the manifestation of your soul, I guess, it's the energy that is used by hunters to make them stronger, faster and sturdier than the regular person." He noticed the kid's eyes light up but ignored him and continued "It can be used to make someone's attacks stronger and it can also be used to create barriers, but only people really skilled in the use of aura can do that shit. Most importantly, though, aura is used to fuel someone's semblance."

Just as expected, the kid spoke up "Semblance?"

"Uh huh, semblance is somebody's unique, more tangible projection of their aura. Most people each have their own semblance but some families have been known to share the same semblance." said Qrow as he thought back to the Schnee.

The kid cupped his chin in thought before asking "So how would one get their aura, are they just born with it?"

Qrow suppressed a sigh before responding "Every living being besides the Grimm have aura, they just have to have it unlocked for them to use it properly."

"Can you unlock mine?"

Qrow paused in shock, the kid took down an entire White Fang faction without having his aura unlocked? Now that he thought about it, Qrow could see bandages below his robes, albeit clean ones...

"Listen kid-"

"-Howl."

Howl? What kind of name was that? "Alright _Howl_ , I'm not sure it would be very responsible of me to unlock some random guy's aura, even if he did help stop the White Fang."

Howl nodded towards the discarded glasses of whiskey surrounding Qrow with a raised eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his excuse.

"Aaand I also have to meet someone soon, someone much more attractive than you so go bother some other huntsman." he finished with a shooing motion.

The kid sighed before pulling out a large blue bottle from his satchel, the writing on the label was unintelligible but it looked fancy. He uncorked it, unleashing a potent scent that was a mix of honey and alcohol, drawing in Qrow slightly. He missed the mischievous grin on Howl's face.

"I suppose I'll have to drink this all by myself, what a shame... Black Briar Reserve is meant to be enjoyed with fellow warriors after all, they're the only ones who can withstand its potency."

The huntsman's eyes narrowed as he held out his hand "Come on kid, you're too young to drink something like that, give it to me: someone who can fully appreciate it."

Howl hemmed-and-hawwed "I dunno, brother... I would've but if you're not going to unlock my aura, I guess I'll have to give it to some other huntsman, right?"

"Alright alright, knock it off kid, give me the drink and I'll unlock your aura."

"Deal." Howl corked the bottle back up before handing it to the elder huntsman "So how do you unlock you aura? Are we going to do it here?"

"Nah, it'd be better if we did it outside, don't want to disturb the other patrons after all." said Qrow while lightly stroking the bottle with reverence.

He got up from the stool, gesturing towards Howl to follow him as he stumbled to the door, he could hear the kid sigh behind him as he followed the drunken man through crowds of soldiers on leave. Qrow groaned and covered his eyes with his arm as he was hit with harsh beams of sunlight. _Why the hell does it have to be so damn_ sunny _?_ he thought despondently.

He soon got used to it though, and was once more able to enjoy the idyllic atmosphere of the town as they roamed the streets in search of a field. Market stalls lined the various roads and human and faunus alike haggled with merchants in search of a fairer price. Children ran throughout the crowds laughing as they played tag and other games. The only thing that ruined the atmosphere, in his opinion, were the soldiers patrolling the streets, some doing their jobs, others looking to enjoy what little leave they had. Qrow thought they made the atmosphere more oppressive but, at the end of the day, they were the ones that kept the town and other surrounding villages safe while huntsmen performed their various jobs.

Tall buildings designed to imitate Valean architecture made up the city center but the roads made up of packed dirt and cobblestone gave the town a frontier feel. Urban centres such as Lantana were placed in the spotlight by the Kingdom as shining examples of humanity's potential to once again repopulate the world while disasters such as Mountain Glenn were swept under the rug. It was another one of those policies put in place by the government that were accepted out of necessity rather than for their actual moral value...

As they progressed further and further towards the fields on the outskirts of the town, the duo began to encounter the refugees from Brothers' Refuge, nearly all of which pointed and whispered at Howl as he passed them by. Qrow grinned cheekily as a pair of young women giggled and waved seductively at the kid, giving him a subtle yet growing blush, partially hidden by his tattoos.

"Heh, did the hero receive any rewards from those fair maidens?" asked Qrow mischievously.

Howl sniffed derisively and looked away, as if disgusted by the question (though his attempts at looking dignified were ruined by his blush) "A hero doesn't request rewards such as those from the people he saves. Though he may request food or money as recompense for his efforts."

The huntsman scratched his head in confusion at his logic.

"So you've never received any... female attention?"

Howl scowled in embarrassment "Is that a question a stranger should be asking another stranger?"

"You haven't then."

Like all boys his age, Howl sought to dispute that claim "Well... there was Senna, a priestess of Dibella from where I'm from..."

"A priestess, huh? Kinky." said Qrow with a grin, ignoring the foreign-sounding God. Due to the largely disconnected way of life of villages outside the Kingdoms, it wasn't at all uncommon to find different cults or religions.

Howl didn't respond to Qrow's gibe, having instead adopted a sadder, more melancholic look.

 _Maybe he got dumped, the first one is always the most special..._ thought the huntsman but nevertheless decided to drop the subject, being close with his two nieces made him realize that he was probably better off avoiding subjects of love and relationships when talking to teens. The mood as they walked to the outskirts was subdued but still pleasant as the pair basked in the warm sunlight.

"Well, here we are..." said Qrow as they reached a suitable field near the main road leading out of Lantana.

"Alright, let's get on with it. Unlock my aura." said Howl impatiently, his silver eyes narrowed, obviously still displeased by the huntsman's probing, embarrassing questions.

"Hold your horses, kid, there's something I gotta ask you first. Are you interested in being a huntsman? You've definitely got the skills for it."

"Why? Do I need to become a huntsman to have my aura unlocked?" asked the kid.

"Nah nah, nothing like that. It's just that, now more than ever, the Kingdoms need people like you to defend them. You've seen for yourself what kinds of monsters threaten the peace; Grimm attacks are on the rise and groups like the White Fang are coming out of the woodwork. You seem like you would be a perfect candidate."

Howl half-shrugged nonchalantly, his right shoulder having been wounded "I've been defending people for a while now, I don't see why I would stop now, even if it means that I have to become a huntsman or whatever."

"Good man." said Qrow with a grin "I'll put in a good word with Ozpin, if you keep up the good work you'll have no trouble getting into Beacon."

The now huntsman-in-training waved his hand dismissively "That's good and all but can you unlock my aura already?"

"Alright alright, I guess I've delayed long enough now." said the huntsman with a chuckle. He placed a fingertip on Howl's forehead, ignoring the younger man's squirming and intoned "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."

Qrow stumbled back hurriedly and gazed at Howl's aura in wonder, it must've been one of the most powerful auras he had ever seen. He shone brightly like a beacon, his form being covered by a dappled light mostly dominated by a dark silvery-gray color that was interspersed with various shades of red, green, brown, black and gold. With how powerful it was and its unique appearance, it was as if Howl had multiple auras that had combined with his own... It gave off an ancient, foreboding feeling, a sort of primal power that an old Grimm might have had, if it had aura.

Howl stared down at his hands in amazement before stretching out his limbs with a satisfied sigh "You didn't tell me that aura healed people as well..."

"Must've slipped my mind." said Qrow casually, careful not to show his amazement as he crossed his arms nonchalantly.

The kid closed his eyes and took a deep breath, relishing in his newfound power, before looking to the huntsman and saying "You mentioned a Beacon, what is that?"

"Not _a_ Beacon, just Beacon. It's one of the premier academies where people go to learn the skills required to be a huntsman. I went there when I was your age and I'm pretty tight with the Headmaster so I can get you in there, no sweat. Although he probably already heard of what happened at Brothers' Refuge..."

"An academy?" asked Howl in distaste.

"Hey, I wasn't a huge fan of school either but some of my favorite memories come from when I went there" he said with a melancholic smile before continuing with a forlorn sigh "That place'll teach you about aura better than I ever could and I like to think that I know my stuff. Besides, you have to graduate from one of the academies if you wanna be a huntsman, as unfortunate as that is."

"If that's the only way, then I suppose I have no choice, do I?"

"I mean, if you _really_ wanted to, you could just strike out on your own and do things your own way, wandering from town to town, living off of the good graces of the people before you eventually step on some big shot's toes without the proper license to back up all of the trouble you caused. Trust me kid, it's easier for everyone if you become a huntsman. At least at Beacon you'll have people having your back, I guarantee it."

Howl allowed himself a small smile before nodding, apparently liking the sound of that "Alright, I'll do it."

"You won't regret it." said Qrow with a grin of his own before jabbing his thumb back towards the main road "Follow that and you'll eventually reach Vale where Beacon is located, it should take you a month and a half at most, though it'll take you less time if you're quick enough. It's a long, hard road with a lot of Grimm along the way, so consider this your first entrance exam: get to the school."

Howl stared at the road in determination, his eyes were alight with excitement at the daunting task in front of him. Qrow smiled at the sight.

"Give me your scroll so I can give you my contact info, call me if you never need help with something. You've caught my attention, kid, not many people can say that."

Howl handed Qrow a scroll.

"What? I don't mean a paper scroll, I mean a scroll scroll." Qrow took out his scroll "Like this? Jeez, what kind of kid these days _doesn't_ have a scroll..."

"I have no idea what that is, where can I get one?" said Howl in a deadpan, making the huntsman truly believe him.

"Looks like your quest is already experiencing setbacks, huh?" said Qrow with a chuckle "You could probably find one for dirt cheap in an electronics shop back in Lantana."

Howl looked back at the town with a sigh, no doubt disappointed at the fact that his journey would have to wait for that much longer.

He looked back at Qrow and bowed his head before simply saying "Thank you for unlocking my aura and showing me a path that I had not known. I don't even know your name, brother."

"It's Qrow, Qrow Branwen." The huntsman scratched his head awkwardly at the formal language "And, uh, don't mention it kid just prove to me that I didn't just make a giant mistake by unlocking your aura."

Howl nodded with a small smile before walking back to the town, turning back to wave at the older man "See you in another life, brother!"

He watched Howl trudge back to the town with a fond smile, confident in his decision to guide him towards Beacon. He looked down at the scroll and a worried frown replaced the smile, Amber should've contacted him an hour ago...

 _ **QUEST COMPLETED:**_ **On the Hunt**

 _ **QUEST STARTED:**_ **A Beacon of Hope**

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **So there it is, Howl has been guided down the path to Beacon by Qrow and, if it wasn't clear, Sceamhail is Howl. Howl is actually the literal translation of Sceamhail, which is Irish for howl.**

 **Not a lot of action, just some plot development. I'll explore the effects of aura and semblance on Howl's ability to shout as the story progresses. Also, I'm thinking of using some shouts from the Thunderchild mod to spice things up.**

 **I planned on releasing this chapter a couple of days earlier but university got in the way, as it usually does.**

 **Please review. Also favorite/follow if you enjoy my story. Feel free to give me feedback. Please.**

 **Have a nice day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, for taking so long to release this chapter, I've been quite busy with university and my new job. However, I definitely think it was worth the wait. This chapter is the longest thing I've ever written. If I had to describe it: it's kind of like episodes of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (or the original series) where Ed and Al travel around the East of Amestris and do things there. It sets up their reputation and several other story lines.**

 **As always, I don't own RWBY or the Elder Scrolls series.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER 3: The Faunus Internationale**

* * *

Howl breathed a sigh of relief as a town tucked into a cliffside appeared on the horizon, the buildings shrouded in shade seemed much more welcoming than the sun-beaten, dirt road on which he had traveled for weeks now. Qrow wasn't joking when he said that the road to Vale would be a long and hard one, after Lantana there were barely any towns and the ones that were on the road were unwelcoming to outsiders. Outside the towns were vast forests teeming with Grimm that seemed more welcoming than the towns full of fellow men. The nights were cold and the days were hot as no clouds shielded him from the sun, the enchantments on his clothing (which, thankfully, still worked) shielded him from any potential harm but still didn't protect him from how uncomfortable the extreme weather was. The weeks on the road had proven to be more exhausting than any of his wanderings in Skyrim, at least in that province he could enjoy the solitude of the wilderness or the interactions between him and his companions, here in Remnant he was constantly being tested by the creatures they called the Grimm.

Sometimes he wondered if it was true that the Grimm were mindless and had no souls or if it was something that huntsmen told themselves in order to fully commit themselves towards the war effort against the unending menace. Howl hadn't been able to test the theory out due to a lack of a soul trap.

Either way, after having encountered the creatures of Grimm a multitude times, he could understand why civilization in this world was confined to small towns and enclaves. By themselves, Grimm were persistent and bloodthirsty nuisances but when they formed larger groups, they could easily overwhelm those who didn't have the power to stop them and could bog down even Howl, who had the power of the Thu'um at his disposal. At least they weren't bandits, whenever he encountered them it was usually accompanied by despair at the state of Skyrim and guilt at the killing of other people. Perhaps guilt wasn't the right word for what he felt... the feeling was more akin to regret. Regret because had the threads of fate been spun differently, had the Divines willed it, it would've been the savage Howl being slain by a heroic bandit, not the other way around. Every time he killed a member of the Forsworn or someone who had turned to banditry in order to make ends meet he was simply killing someone who was not as fortunate as himself.

Howl frowned and grasped the Amulet of Akatosh hanging around his neck; the worst part about the road to Vale wasn't the mindless legions of Grimm but rather the solitude as he traversed across leagues of dense forest and poorly-maintained roads. Skyrim's environment was much the same in terms of how untamed it was but the nights traveling across the snowy landscapes were filled with warmth and laughter, but also a peculiar sense of melancholy as he was accompanied by his friends, each who, in his eyes, were far more qualified to be the Dragonborn than he was. Lydia, his loyal housecarl, was honorable and the epitome of a Nordic shieldmaiden, Mjoll was more heroic and more altruistic than he could ever hope to be, Erik the Slayer who strove for the strength to help others and J'zargo... well, perhaps J'zargo wasn't a shining beacon of valiant traits. The nights in Remnant were cold (he didn't light any fires so as not to attract any more Grimm) and were filled with paranoia as he practically slept with one eye open. It would be a shame for his journey to end with him being devoured while he slept after all.

That's why Howl had taken up Qrow's offer of becoming a student at Beacon Academy and becoming a huntsman, he simply wanted companions who could watch his back. That and the wealth of knowledge pertaining to the nature of aura that would be available to him were too much to pass up. Moreover, after having heard tales of the feats accomplished by the Huntsmen, he looked forward to having people that could potentially walk alongside him as equals rather than followers.

The cliff's shadow stopped right outside the town's walls allowing Howl to bask in the cooler air for a minute before proceeding through the town gates, the guards stationed there yawned idly and slouched boredly but squared up as he attempted to pass them. He silently prayed to the Divines for safe passage into the town, he couldn't bear to spend another night on the road.

"Hold up a second there, traveler. Gotta check you for anything suspicious before we let you in here." said the tall, lanky guard, his voice cracking midway through the sentence.

"Is something bad happening, something I need to know as a traveler, brother?" asked Howl with a frown as he noticed that the other guard was more content with checking his hair and his ass than checking for any weapons. He fidgeted uncomfortably under the guard's searching gaze, his behavior reminded him more of a priestess of Dibella rather than someone of his station.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to let ya know... Ever since the White Fang wiped out Brothers' Refuge, some other mining town, the people here have been super on edge. That and that damned faunus union is protesting the town selling the mines to the SDC, the mayor and the captain don't want any more rabble-rousers shaking things up here, if you catch my drift."

So they were checking if he was a faunus. Howl sighed, apparently this world had trouble with racism too...

"I'm just looking to rest here for the night before I proceed onto Vale, are there any inns available?" he asked as dignified as possible considering someone was basically checking him out.

"He's all clear." said the other guard with a bored tone of voice and a nod of his head as returned to his post.

The first guard cupped his chin in thought "The one I'd recommend is Mellor's Tavern, ya got cold beer, beautiful women and good company. What more could you ask for?" he asked, no doubt referring to humans in his earlier comment "Then ya got the inn in the faunus district, what's it called again? Oh yeah, Hathi's, but I don't know why you would hang out over _there_ , that's where the union hangs out. Don't know why the mayor doesn't just send us to crack down on that zoo..."

Howl's interest was piqued at that, he always had a knack for sticking his nose where it didn't belong and helping out where he could. If he wanted to do that here then the best way to do that would be to visit the union and see what the situation was over there.

He nodded politely towards the guards before walking past them "Thank you."

"Word of advice traveller," said the second guard while eyeing the scimitar sheathed at the back of Howl's waist wearily "this town'll treat you right so long as you don't cause any trouble, we like to sort things out by ourselves you see? Just enjoy Mellor's and be on your way. Welcome to Bulwark."

The division between the faunus and the humans was very apparent as he walked down the main road of Bulwark and, as the buildings became cleaner and older, the divide between the two races became more and more visible as he reached the second main road which intersected the one leading out of town. ' _The town is literally divided in two_ ' thought Howl with no small amount of amusement. Members of the two races either glared at each other or ignored each other's existence from the safety of their buildings on their respective side of the road.

This combined with the treatment by the guards didn't make Bulwark seem very welcoming. Though Howl doubted bulwarks were supposed to be welcoming to outsiders in the first place. Not that he cared, he was just interested in sleeping in a comfortable bed and perhaps finding some trouble along the way.

From what Howl could gather just by the architecture and layout of the town, it appeared to have been founded by human settlers who were attracted by the minerals offered by the deposits located by the cliffs. The center of the town was located more towards the mines and the buildings seemed more established and less shoddy, most of them being built with stone along with the roads. However, the newer settlers, predominately faunus, were forced towards the outskirts of the town, away from the mines, and lived in poorer conditions, the roads being dirt and the buildings having been built with shoddier materials such as wood.

The tension in the town only got worse as he approached the town hall, where the mayor (apparently Remnant's more democratic form of a jarl) governed from. A semi-circle of mostly faunus formed around the entrance of the town hall which was blocked off by guardsmen, they carried around signs that had phrases such as 'Mayor Gout Sold us Out!' and 'End Faunus Discrimination Today!' written on them, though less proper sayings were being shouted at the windows of the building. Around the protesters was another (smaller) semicircle formed by humans who shouted racial slurs and other obscenities at the faunus who were guarded by another set of guards, most of whom who didn't even look like they wanted to be there.

The fact that the guards were guarding both protestors was interesting to Howl because it seemed that, despite the prejudice that some of the guards displayed, they still took their duties seriously, even if it required them to protect citizens they didn't particularly approve of. He cringed at the thought of miners in Markarth performing any kind of protest, the Hold Guards likely would've put them down faster than someone could sneeze. That is if the enforcers in the pockets of the Silver-Bloods didn't get to them first.

Howl shook his head as he continued down the main road, the guards at the gate were right: the town was barely holding together, the protest and the visible distinction between the two groups made it that much more apparent.

He blanched when he saw the state of the mines, the situation there made the protests at the town hall seem like a child's temper tantrum. A massive crowd of hundreds of faunus were gathered at the mines' fenced boundaries where the guards there were barely holding their wall of shields. Water bottles and other innocuous items were thrown at and over the fence, littering the grounds with trash and other materials. The leaders of the protests stood over the crowds on tipped over cars egging them on with megaphones, encouraging them to fight against their perceived racial injustices. The roar of the crowd reminded him of the battles he fought during the Stormcloak Rebellion as him and his fellow Imperial soldiers would charge to meet the Nord ranks. Some miners stood behind the guards, shouting back at the protestors but they were few in number, making their replies seem like the mewling of a kitten compared the roaring of a lion. The other miners likely stayed home or perhaps even joined the ranks of the protestors.

The Dragonborn could only watch in wonder; if this was peace in Remnant, he didn't want to know what war looked like...

 _ **QUEST STARTED:**_ **Come Rally**

* * *

"Ghira Belladonna said that the key to faunus self-determination on the continents was financial independence! How the hell are we supposed to achieve that if we let city hall sell us out to the Schnee?!" shouted Butch passionately, his face red and his dog ears twitching. Several of the other faunus in the crowd murmured in agreement, being swayed over by the passion and the mention of the leader of their homeland.

Louie took a deep drag of his cigarette, relishing in the burning feeling in his throat and the feeling of lightheadedness brought on by the nicotine. He sighed in exasperation at the rhetoric of one of his fellow protest leaders, letting his exhaled smoke join the secondhand cancer cloud that populated the bar. Hathi tutted quietly while idly cleaning a shotglass but the orangutan faunus ignored him, the old elephant should've known by now that miners brought their unhealthy working environment and black lungs back to wherever they went.

"We all know what Ghira said, that's why the hell we're all here, Butch..." he drawled out "So let's stop beating around the bush, what're you trying to say?"

The dog faunus scowled and the room quieted, waiting for the confrontation between the two major leaders of the protests. They had been fighting on the daily, neither agreeing with each other's vision of how the protests should evolve and succeed. Louie wouldn't say that their conflict was threatening to tear apart the movement but... if they didn't settle things soon, the movement would likely fail and the Schnee would get to do whatever they want with their jobs. So, yeah, maybe it was...

"Well since you asked so nicely... History teaches us that protests by themselves aren't going solve shit." he said crudely "It's obvious we're going to need to take the fight to those bastards in City Hall, maybe even pay that smarmy little shit from the SDC a little visit. We can learn from the White Fang and how they evolved! We need to show them that we're not going to take them trampling all over our rights laying down, we need to take those mines back for all our fellow faunus!" he shouted full of gusto.

Nervous murmuring erupted amongst the crowd after Butch finally revealed his hand. You would've had to have been an idiot not to realize what direction he wanted to take the protests, his rhetoric was full of dog-whistle terms, thinly-veiled violence and 'revolutionary' vocabulary, it was only a matter of time before he brought out the White Fang card.

"You mean the same White Fang that that practically wiped out Brother's Refuge, faunus included?" asked Louie, barely holding back a smirk at the sight of the wind being taken out of Butch's sails.

"That's just propaganda spread by Vale!" proclaimed the dog faunus desperately.

"Whatever helps you justify your hateful ideology," said the orangutan faunus dismissively with a roll of his eyes.

"Alright, Louie, all you've done is criticize me, what actual advice do you have to offer?" asked Butch, his hairy arms crossed against his broad chest.

Louie paused and took another long drag on his cigarette, what he was about to say would no doubt piss a lot of people in the room off so he might as well enjoy his Mistralian Spirits while he still could.

"The man you seem so fond of quoting, Ghira Belladonna, would've definitely opposed what you're planning, Butch, that's why he was deposed in the first place. If we turn to violence, that'll just give the guards an excuse to legitimately and legally attack us, shutting down the the movement we've worked so hard to build from the ground up, we'll destroy the home that our ancestors have worked so hard to build for us. We're not the White Fang, we can't just carry out militant campaigns to wipe out discrimination; we don't have the weapons, we don't have the money and we certainly don't have the arrogance or lack of moral conscience to pull it off either." He paused to take a breath and to let his previous words sink in. Louie turned to face the other faunus in the room, looking them each in the eye with a pleading expression "We can't do this by ourselves, we just can't. We don't represent enough of the vote to make any lasting change and the powers that be obviously don't care about us if this deal is anything to go by. If we want this movement to be successful and be a step in the right direction, we need to reach out to any humans that sympathize with us and hit the council where it hurts: their ability to stay in power!"

"You can't be serious! The humans are why we're in this position in the first place!" shouted Butch, his face taking on a dangerous shade of red.

"You're conveniently forgetting all the humans that have joined us already, Butch! Just because the SDC deal disproportionately screws us over doesn't mean it doesn't screws over the other miners too! The Schnee are a shady corporation through and through and they won't hesitate to fuck over the humans as well. I guarantee you that some of the folks at Mellor's know that as well!" shouted back Louie with a scowl.

"I don't know how you can call yourself a faunus when you say shit like that." the dog faunus said with a shake of his head, his ears twitching wildly "I'm out of here, I've heard enough for tonight..."

Some left with him, shooting Louie dirty looks as they joined their leader, no doubt leaving in order to further discuss the dog faunus's plans. While some of the remaining faunus (and even some humans) shot him appreciative looks that made his ego swell, most discussed the topic at hand in hushed voices, huddling together around tables and booths, drinking generous portions of alcohol in order to take the edge off.

"Good! All this talk of revolution is scaring away potential customers! My bar's a bar not some old state house..." said the elephant in the room with a displeased snort, slamming a mug of beer (his cheapest brand of course) in front of Louie. "Bars are meant for drinking and merriment, so drink and be merry, leave the protesting at the Town Hall or the mines."

Things settled down after that, some discussed local hunter tournaments with their fellow patrons and others openly discussed the protest and the future of Bulwark. While some lingering tension remained from the debate and other events that took place that day, most could breathe a little easier (if you didn't take into account the cloud of secondhand smoke) thanks to the lack of an impending argument between two of the protest leaders.

"You know you love us Hathi, look at all the business we bring you." said Louie with a chuckle, taking a sip from the cool glass of beer.

"You're lucky all these people pay their tabs, otherwise you would've had to find some shitty warehouse for your meetings." said Hathi, going back to idly cleaning a mug though Louie could see him looking at his patrons out of the corner of his eye.

Though he was being grouchy at the moment, Louie couldn't imagine the old elephant faunus being anything but proud as he surveyed the bar that he had practically built from the ground up. The dimmed lighting, the wooden furniture and the smell of delicious food being cooked gave the inn/bar a rustic but homey feeling befitting a frontier town. Patrons that knew each other since they were children discussed banal topics such the weather or tournaments, others took on more serious topics and if any of them had a disagreement, they went to Hathi who dispensed sage yet blunt advice.

Fighting over a girl? Go to Hathi. Fighting over a guy? Go to Hathi. Got a bet you want to place? Go to Hathi. His communion wasn't limited to faunus, many humans found their way into Hathi's kingdom, though they became less and less frequent after the plan to sell the mines to the SDC was leaked by the local newspaper. He was the bar owner every sitcom writer dreamt of creating.

The elephant faunus looked up from his task suddenly and asked in his usual gruff tone of voice "How can I help you?"

"I'll take a whiskey over ice please." asked a strange-accented voice from behind him.

"What kind?" asked Hathi as he pulled out a fresh glass.

"I'm not very familiar with the types of whiskey served here so whichever one you think best, I guess. Oh, and I'd like to book a room if that's at all possible."

"Hmph, that shouldn't be a problem, not like we get much travelers around these parts anymore." Hathi fished around under the counter before pulling out a key and setting it on the counter along with a glass of whiskey. "Room's 210, if you go upstairs it's on the left side at the end of the hall."

The stranger settled into the stool next to Louie, giving him the opportunity to examine him out of the corner of his eye. He wore a strange set of ostentatious, midnight green robes along with a plain leather satchel and a sword sheathed at the back of his waist. His face was youthful but seemed slightly intimidating due to the elaborate tribal tattoos and scars. This gave him the appearance of some sort of warrior, perhaps he was a huntsman taking a rest from the job. His pointed ears and sharp, pronounced canines made him seem like a faunus or at least a human with faunus ancestry.

"Thank you." said the traveler as he pocketed the key "I can't imagine why this town doesn't get much travelers, the guards at the gate were positively charming." he continued, his voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Don't worry too much about those bozos, the guards on gate duty are the ones too stupid or too ignorant to keep any semblance of order in the town." Louie said, finally interjecting himself in the conversation.

"Then the whole watch must be comprised of gate guards." remarked the stranger glibly, taking a sip of the amber liquid before looking down at it with pleasant surprise, he turned to Hathi "You have good taste, brother."

The elephant faunus grunted noncommittally, though Louie knew him long enough to know that he was pleased by the compliment.

"I suppose you arrived early enough to see the protests then... What's your name, traveler?"

"Howl."

"Strange name..." Howl gave him a lopsided grin and a shrug in response "Well, Howl, what do you think of the situation then..."

The traveler took a sip of whiskey and hummed in thought as he stared down at his reflection in the glass. "I'm a newcomer here so I don't know the general situation well... but it seems like maybe the faunus aren't up at arms just because their jobs are at risk but maybe because this is a symptom of something else..."

Louie motioned Howl to go on, a piece of ash fell from the tip of his cigarette due to the movement which he quickly cleaned under Hathi's scathing glare.

"While I'm not a faunus so I don't really understand what it's like to be discriminated against _like that_ , this town doesn't seem to be short on racists, the guards at the gate were prepared to throw me back out to the beowolves if they found any trace of faunus on me. So maybe this is their way of standing up for themselves and asserting their equality." Howl said slowly, as if chewing his words before spitting them out.

"Well done, want a cigarette?" Louie offered, extending the black packet of Mistralian Spirits towards his fellow patron with a welcoming smile.

"Huh?" asked Howl, confused at the non-sequitur. He nonetheless hesitantly liberated the death-stick from it's constraining packet, cautiously sniffing the offered item before a bright smile erupted on his face. "Ah, tobacco! Thank you, I haven't had the opportunity to enjoy it since I lost my pipe before I arrived here."

' _Pipe? Who smokes using a pipe anymore?_ ' wondered Louie silently as he lit his fellow patron's cigarette, watching with amusement as he hacked and coughed after his first drag.

"Wow-" said Howl with a wheeze "That's pretty strong, brother..."

The traveler took several gulps from the glass of water slid down from the other end of the bar by Hathi before graciously nodding to the faunus.

"For someone who apparently knows nothing about the situation, you sure got a good grasp of it quickly." said Louie, watching as Howl cleared his throat and slammed his chest with a fist before looking at the orangutan faunus curiously.

"The town council is currently voting on whether or not to sell the mines to the SDC, the Schnee Dust Company, a corporation that continues to abuse the rights of its faunus workers despite civil and workers' rights laws passed by the Kingdoms. Guess laws don't matter much when you have enough money to pay off the Councils." said Louie bitterly, taking a drag of his cigarette before elaborating further on the situation "If the majority of the council votes for the proposal then the mayor will most likely approve it without any hesitation, bastard probably wouldn't even read the fine print... Anyways, the council is currently in a deadlock, Sara Vati, the representative of the Outer District where most of the faunus live, is obviously voting against the proposal but Sunny Peters, the representative of the old, predominately human Inner District, is voting for. Clancy Sherry is the deciding vote, he's a former guardsman, but he's been hesitant to vote for or against the proposal; no surprise, he was one of the good ones, guards that is."

"Despite how forceful or showy or protests are, the truth is that we don't have enough votes to threaten Sherry's tenure as councilman which means that we won't be going anywhere unless he suddenly has a change of heart."

"I thought you said he was one of the good ones?" questioned Howl in confusion, taking a drag of the cigarette and managing to not look like he was dying.

"Yeah, he's one of the good ones in the sense that he doesn't actively hate us. Still, we don't have enough sway over his voter base so if he wants to keep his cushy desk job, he'll probably end up just voting for the proposal." explained Louie.

"I see... so that's why you and... Buck? Did I get that right? Were debating..."

Louie sighed "It's Butch and yeah, pretty much. He thinks that we can sway his voters through intimidation and violence but he's wrong, that'll just make the whole town turn against us, it'll lower us to the same level as the guards who target us or the businesses who discriminate against us. Now I'm not against self-defense, but when we go out there and actually target those people, we just make monsters of ourselves."

"Why tell me all of this?" asked Howl, his chin resting on his right hand.

"Is me trying to convert new followers for our movement not good enough of an explanation?" asked Louie rhetorically but he soon elaborated at Howl's raised eyebrow "To be honest, I'm at kind of at an impasse. While I would prefer for us to sway the voters by convincing them to join us, if they see any of our people knocking on their doors, they'll just pretend like no one's home. If you, a newcomer, try to reach out to them, they'd probably be more willing to listen."

"Probably? Have you seen my face? Why would they welcome me?" asked Howl to which Louie simply grinned.

 _He's self-aware too..._

"You understand our struggle and you were willing to listen to me jabber on for hours, that's more than any other traveler could say. Most people who travel the road to Vale just visit the inn, sleep then fuck right off but you actually took the time to ask questions and learn about the situation here, to me that shows that you care at least just a little bit. Am I wrong?" asked the orangutan faunus, looking into his fellow patron's silvery-grey eyes.

"How do you know I'm traveling to Vale?" asked Howl, avoiding eye contact, electing to gaze at the various drinks on display instead.

"Why else would anyone walk here on foot?" asked Louie in return "This isn't exactly tourist central, not to mention the fact that you look like one of those hunter types. Now stop avoiding the question."

"You are correct." admitted the traveler simply with a small grin "What do you need me to do, brother?"

"Have you ever heard of a bar called Mellor's?"

* * *

' _Finally, an easy quest..._ ' thought Howl with relief as he read through a few pages of one of the books he brought with him from Nirn, enjoying the atmosphere of the all-human Mellor's. Usually he would have to run around the wilderness for weeks having to go to some random cave or bandit hideout. But every once in a while he would get a quest which would just require him to walk around a city looking for someone to talk or relay a message to. No fighting, no killing, no troublesome wild beasts to deal with, and certainly no camping. He treasured those quests the most as they reminded him that not everyone's problems needed to be solved with a sword or shout, they could also be solved by simply communicating with someone. So far, this quest seemed to fall into that category, although he made sure to keep his eyes open for any trouble since tensions were so high.

All he had to do is wait for the more vocal members of the community to speak up so he could begin to identify who sympathized with the protest movement.

"Damn those faunus! I haven't been able to go to work for more than a week, how the hell am I supposed to put food on the table! Don't those damn animals realize they're also hurting themselves by protesting?" shouted a voice among the din of cutlery and murmuring. Nothing too controversial yet; at least not controversial enough to warrant debate.

Some voices agreed while others let out quiet 'oof's at the racist terminology, yet none spoke up. Mellor's was basically the human version of Hathi's: it was where the humans protesting the faunus protestors gathered to discuss the events of the days and where most debate happened on the other side of the movement. The only differences between the two establishments (other than the characteristics of their patrons) was Mellor's strict no-smoking policy and the fact that the human inn seemed more... established. The building was built out of stone and blended in with the older buildings of Bulwark and it had devices called televisions where news broadcasts and other programs were put on display with means that escaped Howl.

' _My goodness, that's quite a loaf! But how ever shall it fit my oven?_ '

The Dragonborn chuckled quietly at the obvious innuendo, it was said that you could learn about authors through their works; if so, Crassius Curio was quite the pervert. He was one of the more interesting figures that Howl had studied during his stay at the Bard's College and College of Winterhold, while he wasn't a great warrior or statesman, his eccentric nature and association with the Nerevarine, one of the previous great heroes in Tamriel's history, made him a fascinating research subject.

"Well I've had enough of those selfish bastards!" _Now we're getting somewhere..._ "I say we take the fight to them instead of just hiding in our homes, watching as they screw us out of our livelihoods! I know the guards have been itching to put those animals in they're place!"

Howl snapped his book shut and waited for the fireworks to start.

"Ori... you can't be serious, those are our neighbors! They're the people we went to school with, the people we played streetball with, the people-" shouted a voice in conjunction with the scraping of a chair against the bar's wood floor before being cut off.

"I don't care. They stopped being our neighbors as soon as they betrayed us." said the woman, Ori ( _short for Orianna?_ ). Contrary to her ugly personality, she was actually quite beautiful with short black hair, dark grey eyes and a nice jawline.

"Well maybe we betrayed them when we voted for people willing to sell out a third of Bulwark for some quick cash." said the previous voice. If he was from Skyrim, Howl would've assumed he was a Gray-Mane due to his grey hair and blacksmith's build. "Don't act like we all don't know what kind of crap the SDC pulls with its faunus workers."

"The laws are different here than they are in Atlas, Floyd, we have laws protecting all workers here in Vale." pointed out Ori.

"Oh yeah? Who's going to make sure that the SDC follows those laws all the way out here? The people who sold the mines to 'em? Get real, Ori, it would only be a matter of time before they throw their money around to keep some mouths shut, or worse: get rid of all those laws."

"I'll be damned... Should've known you were a no-good animal lover."

"Hey look!" a sarcastic voice called out, cutting the two off "We're on the news!"

Every head turned at once to look at the various screens hung up strategically around the inn, though they were quiet someone somehow made it so sound came out of them. On the screens were a pretty red-haired woman standing in front of the town hall, the only source of lighting were the dust-lit streetlamps. He could see that the ground was still covered in discards from the day's protests.

"-is Kamala Bayard reporting in from the town of Bulwark located in the Northern Frontier. The first week of the faunus protests against the purchase of the town mines by the Schnee Dust Company has passed and there seems to be no end in sight as the Town Council is in a deadlock regarding the decision. The protests first broke out after the proposal was leaked out by a local newspaper - The Bulwark Guardian - and faunus leaders mobilized their peers to stage sit-ins and other demonstrations at the town hall and the mines. These protests have sparked a storm of racial tension within the mining town as many of the human residents have formed together to create their own-counter protest movements."

Several images flashed by the screen depicting the faunus protestors, but also the humans who had formed the counter-protest movement. Many in the inn's crowd winced or bowed their heads in shame at some of the pictures that showed the counter-protestors proudly hoisting up signs featuring racist imagery and language. As Howl turned back to the people in the inn, he noticed that some had also puffed their chests out in pride, clearly having taken part in the actions over the past few days.

Howl simply scoffed, being ignorant wasn't something to take pride in.

He tuned out the noise coming from the televisions as he watched the pro-faunus debater stomp out to the door leading out to the streets, his brows furrowed and his clenched fists shaking. The man took one look back at the inn with disgust clear in his eyes before he said "Y'all were raised better this... Making us look like some damned fools!"

The man punctuated his sentence with a slam of the door, leaving behind a pregnant pause in conversation and activity.

Howl sighed as he placed the second volume of the Lusty Argonian Maid back in his enchanted satchel; while the argument had certainly been entertaining (along with their reactions to the news broadcast,) it wasn't as passionate or well-organized as the debates among the protest movement. The dragonborn wasn't one to take enjoyment from other people's suffering... but, even he enjoyed some drama once in a while.

"Hey! You still haven't paid for your drinks!" cried the bartender as many others followed the man out the bar into the streets. Howl blinked then smiled, it would seem that the faunus had quite a few sympathizers amongst the humans.

He walked up to the bar before slamming a couple septims down on the polished wooden surface drawing all eyes in the inn towards him.

"This should cover it. Don't spend it all in once place!" he called back as he too followed the others out the bar.

He looked back to see the bartender looking at the gold coins in shock, his mouth agape.

"W-What the hell?!"

* * *

Floyd sighed, his breath misting in the cool night air. He didn't mean to blow his top like that back at Mellor's but it bothered him to see members of his community, the people had grown up with and considered to be his friends, so _hateful_. Did it happen because of the movements or had he just ignored it in favor of preserving the only life he had ever known? Back then, they had all lived in an uneasy status quo, one that, he now realized, was as stable as a powder-keg. Other things had happened in the past to trigger such reactions from the faunus at Bulwark - guards specifically targeting and harassing members of their community, outdated and discriminatory textbooks being used in their schools - but he had chosen to ignore all those events and the reactions of those around them.

Some other humans would use excuses like: "That's just the way it's always been", "The guards are just doing their jobs" or worst of all "It's not our problem."

He wished he could say that he stopped to put those people in their place, remind them that it _was_ their problem, the faunus were part of Bulwark too. Instead, he ignored those statements or sometimes even agreed with them, refusing to see the disease festering among the people of his district. He didn't know why it was these specific set of protests that had woken him up from his reverie, maybe it was finally seeing the outright hostility of his fellow humans or perhaps it was even the fact that Remnant's eyes were now upon them, judging the once closed-off community as it was put under a global spotlight.

Either way, it'd probably be for the best to go to a liquor store for all of his alcoholic needs from now on, Floyd didn't think he would be particularly welcome back at Mellor's after pulling that stunt. But would he really feel comfortable just hiding in his house, drinking himself to sleep? After all, he would just be doing the same thing he had always done: conceal himself and ignore the rest of the world's problems...

"It's a terrible feeling isn't it, brother?" called out a strange, foreign-sounding voice from behind him. Floyd turned and saw one of the spectators of his quarrel at the bar, he hadn't seen him before so he was likely a traveler. The short man was leaning against one of the many lamps that dotted the streets of Bulwark, he seemed to be observing him curiously.

"Uh, excuse me?" he called back. He tensed a little bit as the stranger approached him slowly, a sword sheathed at his waist.

"Feeling powerless in the face of injustice. It's a terrible feeling, right? I used to feel that way as well." elaborated the man as he held his arms up in a placating manner. Floyd chuckled nervously, was he that obvious? The traveler stopped in front of him, his silver eyes narrowed. "But as I grew older and more experienced-"

"Hold on, what do you think you're talking about?" he asked, bewildered.

The traveler blinked before continuing awkwardly "Ah, I saw your argument at Mellor's and I thought I would give you some advice."

Floyd frowned before turning around and walking the other direction "I don't need any damn advice."

"So your quarrel at the bar was just an act, was it? I suppose you'll just go back to doing whatever you did before, just bury your head in the sand and pretend like nothing bad is happening around you."

"You don't know shit about me!" he exclaimed as stopped and turned around before marching straight into the traveler's personal space, his diminutive stature reassuring Floyd that he wasn't much of a threat. To the traveler's credit, he didn't look intimidated at all, in fact, he seemed a little amused judging by the smirk that danced across his lips.

"Oh I do, I've seen plenty of people like you, brother, people who pity themselves and cry about the injustice of the world around them but do nothing about it. People who just give up when they see a wall in front of them instead of just thinking of a way to climb past it. Or break through it."

Floyd grumbled to himself after seeing that the traveler wouldn't back down before finally asking "What do you want with me?"

The traveler simply shook his head in disappointment "Perhaps I have the wrong person, I thought that I had encountered someone who would be willing to work towards the future instead of cowering before the present-" he sighed "clearly I was wrong..."

Seeing as Floyd remained silent, he continued "I used to be like you: someone who knew that the things those around him were doing was wrong but instead of doing anything about it, I simply watched and prayed for someone or something to show me a way out. It took years of self-loathing and cowardice before I received a sign and a purpose that would liberate me from the cruelty of those around me but as I walked forward on the path before me and attempted to redeem myself I realized that I could have freed myself sooner and all it would've taken was some courage in the face of my fear and the willingness to take one step forward."

The townsman remained silent in contemplation, his head bowed in shame at the fact that he was being lectured by such a young man. However, as he looked, really looked, at the person in front of him, he realized that he seemed much older: his eyes seemed so weary and full of sadness but, above all else, they showed a strong sort of compassion and empathy, a willingness to guide Floyd down the right path, one that diverted from his previous state.

He hesitated before scratching the back of his head "Thank you but I-I still don't know what to do."

"Isn't it obvious, brother?" the traveler asked with a grin before it diminished at Floyd's unending uncertainty. He turned the other way and began walking at a quick pace, his purposeful steps echoing down the empty street "Follow me."

"Wait!" Floyd cried out, as he jogged to catch up with the mysterious traveler "I don't even know your name!"

"Howl." said Howl simply.

"What kind of name is Howl?"

"The kind that is translated for your convenience."

"Translated from what?"

"Translated from the language of the Reach."

"The language of the what-now?"

Howl decided to ignore him after that so their walk was conducted in an awkward silence, at least one that was awkward for Floyd as he began to have second thoughts about following the strange traveler but was too embarassed to speak up about his second thoughts. He became more hesitant to follow Howl as they progressed further and further into the dilapidated- read: faunus- section of Bulwark, the sidewalks became more unkempt and the stone roads soon shifted into dirt. The air became more tense as well as the faunus inhabitants of the neighborhoods gazed at the odd duo with suspicion and sometimes even curiosity. Howl responded well to the tension and stares, however, as he waved to the different inhabitants and even handed gold coins to some beggars with a kind smile.

That made Floyd feel more comfortable with his decision to follow the traveler.

He stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him. He was no longer comfortable.

"You can't be serious."

Howl stopped, turned around and frowned "Do you want to change or not?"

Floyd balked "But Hathi's? Seriously? The faunus will never accept me!"

"Well, they're going to have to if they want to succeed. True change can't come unilaterally, the proposal can only be stopped if all groups in Bulwark are represented in the protests." he said simply as he began to literally push Floyd forward along the path with a surprisingly large amount of strength.

"Hang on a second! What makes you think that one human can stop the proposal?"

"All revolutions start with one person." said Howl sagely, though he seemed less wise as he grunted with exertion "Besides, you can't be so arrogant to assume that you're the only human supporting the faunus, can you?"

With that question and a final, decisive push from Howl, Floyd was launched through the doors of Hathi's kingdom. Wide brown eyes met dozens of bewildered ones as the patrons of the inn gazed at their newest supporter.

"Oi, Louie! Look who I brought!" called out Howl from behind him.

 _ **QUEST COMPLETED:**_ **Come Rally**

* * *

"So how is she doing?" asked Qrow, wincing at the sunlight that seemed to focus on him. No doubt from a hangover, not that Ozpin could blame him.

"As well as anyone could be doing after having most of their aura stolen from them." said the headmaster despondently, ignoring the cup of hot chocolate in front of him in favor of monitoring the vitals of Amber displayed on the screen as well as a news broadcast from the Vale News Network whose audio droned on and slightly dispelled the uneasy silence present in the room.

"I never expected _her_ faction to get so strong so quickly... How could this have happened?" wondered Qrow aloud as he hung his head.

The duo remained silent in contemplation and in mourning, the loss of the power of the fall maiden was disastrous but the loss of a bright personality such as Amber's was especially distressing to the men, both of whom having experienced a fair share of loss during their lifetimes. To say that Vale was at peace would be a foolish statement: the Grimm grew more dangerous as their numbers increased and as the despair of humanity grew stronger, the faunus continued the fight for their equality while the White Fang took advantage of that fight. And then of course there was the war with Salem and her new subordinates. Perhaps Ozpin had let himself become fooled by all those talks of peace, ignorance was bliss after all.

"We let our guard down, Qrow." he finally said "We let ourselves be distracted by the White Fang, Torchwick and our little bandit problem in Anima so we lost sight of the true enemy. They hadn't made a move in a while and we let ourselves get content with our position. We made foolish mistakes. We should have never let Amber roam around by herself, she obviously wasn't as unrecognizable as we originally thought. I'm not saying we should have kept her under heavy surveillance but we were just being irresponsible letting her loose like that. Maybe we could have made her a teacher here..."

"I'm sure the boys here would have been happy with that decision." joked Qrow with a weak grin. The headmaster graced him with a small smile, she was rather beautiful after all.

"Speaking of the White Fang..." Ozpin looked up at the Branwen in curiosity "Have I told you about the guy I met back at Lantana before... the whole Amber situation happened."

"No... I don't believe you did." said the headmaster slowly. motioning for his subordinate to continue.

"Turns out that the townspeople at Brothers' Refuge didn't free themselves, somebody else did. This kid was around Ruby and Yang's age and he looked like he's been around, combat-wise at least... and guess what? The kid didn't even have his aura unlocked and he still managed to wipe out the White Fang division sent to capture the town. He just walked right up to me and asked if I could unlock his aura." Ozpin narrowed his eyes and Qrow chuckled nervously in response, technically it was banned for huntsmen to unlock random people's aura. "Obviously it took some convincing, a little test of character before I agreed, plus I figured he deserved it after freeing all those people... Anyways, that kid is a monster, Oz, he might even have more aura than you and it's a weird one at that, I've never heard of someone's aura having multiple colors."

The headmaster sighed and rubbed his temple "Did you ever stop to consider that he might be with the enemy?"

"Huh?"

"An enormously powerful individual somehow identifies you as a huntsman powerful enough to unlock someone's aura. He does so at the town where you and the Fall Maiden were to supposed to meet only for her to come under attack by other powerful individuals. Need I continue? We're both experienced enough to know that there's no such thing as coincidences in this line of work, Qrow."

The huntsman frowned and crossed his arms "Listen Oz, I may have failed Amber but that doesn't mean I'm a bad judge of character. When I unlocked his aura I could feel his soul, you know how it is. It may have felt ancient and powerful but I definitely felt some good in there. Besides, why would he bother saving those townspeople from the White Fang if he was working for Her? I'm telling you, this kid would be a pretty valuable asset in our war."

Ozpin steepled his hands in front of his face "That remains to be seen."

Qrow sighed at his leader's cautiousness before his face lit up in a mischievous grin "Say, do have any spots here left?"

"Why do you ask?" the headmaster asked slowly, wary of his subordinate's question.

"Well what better way is there to ensure and test that Howl's on our side than to interview him here at Beacon and maybe even offer to let him become a student? He's definitely powerful enough and he's got my recommendation, what more could you ask for?"

Ozpin sighed once more "Is there something I should know, Qrow?"

The grin of the huntsman turned more sheepish as he rubbed the back of his head "I may have promised him a spot here in Beacon after I unlocked his aura at Lantana..."

"Unbelievable..." muttered Ozpin with a shake of his head "You're lucky Glynda hasn't joined us today, she likely would've flayed you alive with her semblance."

The headmaster took secret pleasure in the way the experienced huntsman quickly paled at the potential threat of the Deputy Headmistress. There weren't many people who could keep that dusty old crow in line but she could count herself among those select few. He gazed down at his scroll with a small frown as he pulled up the necessary window, his finger hovered over the screen with hesitance before pressing down decisively. He sighed before looking up at his subordinate with a heavy nod.

He shot one more glance at the screen before shaking his head dismissively, sacrifices had to be made after all. _Sorry, Mr. Arc, perhaps in another lifetime I would've looked past your shortcomings and decided to accept you into my academy but there are people who are proving to be far more valuable._

"It's done, have him meet us here in a couple of weeks, before initiation begins. I would like it if you could join us if at all possible."

"That's fine, I was planning on visiting Tai and the girls at Patch before Yang starts here at Beacon. I guess I could stop back here before I head back out into the field."

"I must say, Qrow, you have found quite the prospect." said Ozpin as he gazed at the VNN feed on his monitor, his eyes alight with interest as a rather peculiar scene was reflected back onto his glasses. "I look forward to meeting him."

* * *

Blake knew she was being paranoid as she gazed out the blinds of her room for the umpteenth time that hour but she also believed that it was necessary: one couldn't be careful enough when on the run from the White Fang. She retreated back to her bed with a weary sigh and plopped down onto the uncomfortable mattress with a cringe as she tried to ignore the thought of the previous occupants using it for less savory means. She tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs as she bathed in the bright light of the room's television, the room's only light source since she had practically blocked herself off from the rest of the world.

The ex-White Fang agent watched with apathy as the VNN continued to report on the world around her; perhaps it was because of her own outlook on life but, ever since the White Fang had abandoned its original ideals, the news only seemed depressing...

"This just in from Bulwark..."

Blake sighed despondently, burrowing her head in the crook of her elbow, while the faunus protests at Bulwark were initially uplifting as they reminded her of the early days of the White Fang, they seemed to follow the same trajectory of the organization as they soon found themselves in a stalemate with those that resisted progress and thus grew more desperate. It would only be a matter of time before they too abandoned their ideals like the White Fang before them.

"Lawmakers in the Town Hall are left reeling as an unprecedented amount of humans have joined the protest movement against the proposal to sell the town's mines to the Schnee Dust Company."

Her head shot up, her amber eyes wide. _What?!_

"Kamala Bayard is on the scene with the two architects of the unlikely alliance."

The camera switched to the feed at Bulwark where an orangutan faunus and a burly, grey-haired human stood with a pretty, red-haired woman in a professional get-up. Behind them was the scene at the Town Hall where hundreds of faunus and humans gathered outside the building. Though the faunus clearly outnumbered the humans vastly, it still brought hope to Blake's heart that the two groups could put aside their differences and join together for one purpose.

"Thank you, Lavender. I'm here outside Bulwark's Townhall with the two gentlemen who brought the two groups together: Louie Prima and Floyd Brown. Mr. Prima, can you explain what led you to ally with the humans in your fight against the proposal?"

Louie leaned forward into the microphone "Well, Kamala, to be frank, I realized that our protests would get us nowhere if it was just us faunus out there on the streets. This town, like many others, is made up mostly of humans so if you want to get anything done, you have to include them as well. We simply do not represent a large enough portion of the vote to influence the councilors in their decision to support or go against the proposal."

"So would you say that you only sought out the help of humans purely because of their political value? Not because of anything else?" asked the reporter with a raise of one of her delicate eyebrows.

The orangutan faunus winced slightly as his explanation was broken down before elaborating "No, no, not at all. Whether they realize it or not, this proposal affects the whole town negatively: it has divided us and, if it is passed, well... the SDC is known for its shady business practices for a reason. It's only natural that we would reach out across the street and get our neighbors involved."

Kamala hummed slightly as he positioned the mic more towards the human "And how about you, Mr. Brown, what made you decide to join the movement?"

"Well, Kamala-" he was interrupted as the reporter brought the device closer to his mouth "Thanks, uh, the reason I joined... was because I realized that I couldn't just stand by and watch as my fellow citizens had their rightts trampled all over by the government. Honestly, this isn't even the first time our town's council has deliberately attempted to pass proposals that would harm the faunus, so I guess this was the last straw that led to me finally supporting them after an embarrassingly long time. I just hope that more people will come out and follow our example, there's no reason to be afraid to fight for the right thing." The burly man seemed remarkably shy for someone of his size as his eyes darted around nervously but he seemed to grow more confident as he went on. "Actually, there's someone I want to thank here on camera because he made me realize that I couldn't just sit around while things like this happened, he guided me down the right path. Howl, where are you? Get over here!"

"Actually, we only need two-" the reporter attempted to cut in but was interrupted as Floyd went off camera and dragged back another human into the frame, this one was dressed more outlandishly with elaborate midnight green robes and tattoos covering most of his tanned face.

"Hello." the newcomer said with an awkward wave towards the camera.

The reporter sighed but collected herself quickly and adapted to the new addition "We are now joined by?"

"Howl." said Howl, leaning uncomfortably close into the mic.

"Howl?" she led on, fishing for a last name.

"Just Howl."

"Ahem, we are now joined by Howl. Howl, how would you say you contributed to the protests?"

The newcomer frowned slightly "Honestly, I wouldn't say I helped much, sister, I just pushed Floyd in the right direction."

"Nonsense, if it weren't for him, the humans would have never joined the protests." cut in Floyd, with Louie nodding along in agreement "He's just being humble."

"Well, Howl, what made _you_ decide to help out?" asked Kamala with interest.

"I guess I'm just a nosy person" said the diminutive man with a chuckle "I just try to help out wherever my travels end up taking me. When I got to this town, things were so tense, it really looked like it was about to explode and I couldn't just stand by while that happened. I'm just glad I got here before either side could do something that they would end up regretting."

"Where will your travels end up taking you next?"

"I'm currently heading to Vale in order to apply for Beacon, it's been a long road but I can't say I haven't found it satisfactory." said Howl with a grin.

"You heard it here first. The unlikely story of two groups coming together to help one another out, guided by the hand of a prospective huntsman who just happened to pass by. Howl, good luck on your journey to Beacon, and thank you for taking the time for this interview, gentlemen."

The feed switched back to the reporters at the VNN headquarters but Blake simply turned the television off and flopped backwards onto the mattress with a light smile. She turned the nightstand's lamp on and flicked through the pages of her Ninjas of Love book. Maybe there was hope after all... she looked forward to meeting him...

* * *

 **A/N: So that was a thing. The protest movements and talks of racial self-determination were definitely influenced by some real-life civil rights movements though I'm sure I didn't do any of them justice with a fanfic. I really hope y'all enjoyed it, I'm definitely glad I got this one finished as it sets up the story and kind of explores more of Howl's character and his motivation.**

 **He kind of sees the White Fang as a group similar to the Forsworn so he wants to keep people from going down that path**

 **The next few chapters should definitely come out sooner than this one now that I'm done with my first year of university and also because they'll probably be shorter. Before this chapter, I originally anticipated the chapters being between 5-6k, now I'm not so sure...**

 **Anyways PLEASE REVIEW! And favorite/follow if you enjoy this story. Nothing fuels my motivation more than seeing those things pop up in throwaway gmail account's inbox.**

 **See y'all next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**#OzpinDidSomeThingsWrongButShouldn'tBeShitOnThatMuchComeOnGuys**

 **A/N: YOU SHOULD ALL KNOW THAT I REWROTE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS SO YOU SHOULD GO BACK AND REREAD THEM.**

 **You would probably need to anyways in order to refresh your memory after half a year. Sorry about that. I should've written more considering I don't have any classes during the summer but depression and no hope in the world tend to sap your energy. That's not to say that they've gone away but the way I see it is that if the world's going to end in twenty years because of climate change and its repercussions, I might as well enjoy myself while I still can.  
**

 **Anyways here you go.**

 **RWBY is owned by Rooster Teeth and Elder Scrolls is owned by Bethesda, not me. Blah blah blah.**

 **Chapter 4:** The Man Behind the Curtains

* * *

"The Stormcrown mantled by way of the fourth: the steps of the dead. Mantling and incarnation are separate roads; do not mistake this. The latter is built from the cobbles of drawn-bone destiny. The former: walk like them until they must walk like you." - **Tiber Septim, _Nu-Hatta of the Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree_.**

* * *

Magicka was calm and soothing.

Magicka was a gift from the Divines, the Aedra whose bodies dotted Nirn's sky.

Magicka was pliable and cooperative, easy for him to call on whenever he needed to cast a spell.

His aura, on the other hand, was a piece of shit, a combination of all the ruthless and cruel Dov that he had conquered on his journey to fulfill his destiny, a veritable maelstrom of energy whose source was the souls of over a hundred old and cantankerous souls who were still sore over his conquests.

Howl was almost certain that aura wasn't normally supposed to be this hard to use. Nonetheless, it was the hand that was dealt to him, yet another obstacle that he would overcome on his journey to... do what exactly? The Dragonborn stopped focusing on the energy of his soul with a frustrated sigh; what exactly was his goal in life now that he was stuck (for the foreseeable future) in this universe? Back in Nirn, he always had an objective to strive towards: escape the Forsworn, stop Alduin, stop Lord Harkon, stop Miraak, stop the Thalmor, stop a lot of things... Howl supposed he could try to stop the White Fang, but that was more of a global endeavor and he was fairly certain that Beacon wouldn't allow him to gallivant across Remnant instead of attending classes.

The Dragonborn chuckled at that thought, it was a strange one after all. He had pretty much constantly moved nonstop for a couple of years, only stopping for semi-long periods of time at High Hrothgar and the Throat of the World. The thought of being tied down by something as trivial as _school_ amused Howl after the relative importance of his previous adventures.

He sighed and knelt down, running his fingers through the damp grass. The cool, early morning, misty air was soothing and a departure from the harsh, sunny weather that he had been experiencing the last month on the road north to Vale. He grit his teeth and clenched his hand into a fist, unintentionally ripping up some of the blades of grass trapped in his grasp. The birds chirping in the trees and the general tranquility of the clearing was disturbed as Howl groaned in frustration, throwing the grass in the air as he flopped onto his back and stared at his hand with the grey skies serving as a background.

Howl had to master his aura if he wanted to survive in this strange new land; the loss of his magicka prevented him from using any of his defensive spells such as Ironflesh and he didn't particularly feel like wearing any of the armor he had stored away in his pack, it was simply too uncomfortable for his inner Reachman. Besides, he had heard enough stories of huntsmen at various inns to know that, while his strength was incredible for a mortal in Tamriel, it was no match for someone who had control over their aura in Remnant. He clenched his fists once more and stood up slowly; Howl had come too far to be killed by some random huntsman. He was the Dragonborn damn it!

He glared at his target, a large stone sitting peacefully in the middle of the clearing, before taking a deep breath and focusing his attention inwards. Accessing his aura was a more meditative experience than drawing upon his magicka reserve, most likely due to its nature: it was the energy generated by his soul after all.

The young Reachman almost lost his concentration as he experienced the sudden rush of energy that spread throughout his body, rather than the passive strengthening of his body brought on by the unlocking of his soul's full potential, it felt like he was being injected with fifty stamina potions at once as his body practically vibrated in place from all the energy being created at that moment. ' _Focus. Focus. A sudden onset of power isn't a foreign concept to you. Focus_.' he reminded himself as he struggled to rein in the chaotic aura. Howl grinned as he could feel the intensity dying down after that but not its potency he then concentrated on shifting the powers to his left his fist (his preferred hand even if he was ambidextrous) and felt the rest of his body cooling down as the heat pooled into a single point on his body. Howl noted idly in the back of his mind that it felt like someone was holding a magnifying glass over his hand.

Howl shifted his stance so that his feet were a shoulder-width apart, his left one slightly ahead of the right as he stared at his target.

' _Why am I just standing here?_ ' he thought.

And with that, he charged.

He emptied his mind and focused on his objective.

He reared his arm back and twisted his body slightly and thrusted his fist forward.

Only for the energy that he had so painstakingly focused into his left limb to explode. He cried out in pain and stumbled backwards while cradling his left hand, tears his eyes as he glared sullenly at the stone. Large chunks were missing and the once pristine and moss-covered surface had a spiderweb of cracks running along it, Howl imagined that many of the bones in his hand mirrored the scars that he inflicted upon the inanimate object. He winced as he tried wiggling around the various digits with limited success, he looked down and frowned at their sorry appearance; a series of massive purple bruises seemed to emanate from his fingers. It wasn't a pretty sight.

He quickly rushed over to his satchel which he had propped up against a tree and reached inside with his other hand. He focused on summoning one of the health potions he had stored within the bag and silently thanked Sergius Turrianus, the foremost expert in enchating at the College of Winterhold, for such a wonderful invention. Howl wasn't quite sure how it worked but his trusty satchel was enchcanted to be able to hold massive amounts of items; it was one of the main reasons why he was able to travel so prolifically during his journey in Skyrim.

Howl placed the bottle within his mouth and held it with his teeth before pinching his nose and tilting his head backwards as he attempted to swallow the vile concoction as quickly as possible. He was able to prevent himself from gagging and sighed as he felt his body get enhanced by the stimulant and work in conjunction with his aura to heal his most recent injury.

The Dragonborn stared down at his injured hand as it slowly repaired itself and wondered what in Oblivion was he doing wrong.

* * *

The grey skies, rolling green hills and beautiful mountain vistas on the horizon reminded Howl of his home, or rather the beautiful aspects of it, the hamlets and settlements spread around him would've been replaced by ugly encampments and mines if the resemblance was truly uncanny. He ignored the brief stabbings of melancholy as he yawned and scratched his back, maybe once he was done his journey to Vale he could find a pillow to cry into.

Strange vehicles passed by him at incredible speeds as he walked along the main road leading to the Kingdom, a slick sound was created as their wheels passed over the wet concrete. Strange markings denoting different shipping companies were printed on the sides of the rusty cargo containers. Howl could spot the faces of children gazing at him curiously through the windows of the smaller vehicles before being reprimanded by their parents.

The roads to small frontier settlements such as Bulwark weren't nearly as active nor were they as developed as this one, meaning that he was probably approaching his final destination. He flexed his throbbing hand as he felt a stab of worry rush through his body. The towns he had already visited were already larger than most of the ones in Skyrim, Whiterun and Solitude being the only exceptions, so he wondered how large the largest city in the world would look like in comparison to the locations he had already explored. The books he read and the tales of some of the Imperial officers he encountered during his service for the Legion said that the Imperial City was spread across a large island and contained millions of people. If that was the case, then what would the capital of a far more concentrated and advanced civilization look like?

Howl picked up the pace seeing how the answer could only be found by actually seeing the city, not just by speculation based off of hearsay. The rolling green hills became progressively less green over the course of an hour and were soon replaced by vast fields of grain and other agricultural goods. The size of the various fields indicated an equally vast city, after all it would take a huge amount of manpower to feed such a theoretically large settlement.

The vehicular traffic became less swift as well, with many of the vehicles sitting still, spilling exhaust into the air while their drivers' arm hung limply out of the window, fingertips tapping the beat to songs that Howl couldn't hear. In the distance, the mountain vistas which were once prominent were replaced by a monolithic wall with various large guns positioned on the top at intervals of 15 to 20 meters, Howl could also spot various forms patrolling the length of the gigantic wall, no doubt soldiers of the Valean Army. An equally giant gateway was positioned above the main road with a hydraulic metal gate lifted open, a full contingent of soldiers manned a checkpoint and stopped vehicles for brief amounts of time before allowing them into Vale proper.

Howl looked around and briefly felt awkward seeing as he was the only one walking into Vale; would this inconvenience the border guards or make the traveling process any more difficult?

He briefly ran his hands through his hair to make sure that it was combed back neatly, making sure that he didn't look like too much of an undesirable in the eyes of the guards before he crossed the checkpoint, though the tribal markings on his face made that process quite difficult. The Reachman fixed a pleasant smile onto his face as he approached the guards who were currently tending to a large, cargo-carrying vehicle and reminded himself that they couldn't be as hostile as the Whiterun guards who had almost prevented him from warning Balgruuf of the situation at Riverwood.

The Dragonborn stood off to the side and waited patiently for the guards as they waved along the driver, they almost attended to the next vehicle before Howl cleared his throat, catching their attention.

"How are we doing, gentlemen? I assume you're the ones to go to if I want to enter your fine city?" asked Howl, his voice raising into a chipper tone. No sense in antagonizing them.

The soldiers sported near identical uniforms: dark olive drab fatigues with flexible, modern looking armor arrayed over various vital points and pine green berets. Howl had to admit they looked quite fetching, far more appealing to they eyes than the leather-and-red of the Imperial Auxilaries. They eyed him- or rather his face and his sword - warily before the the officer, a woman, sighed and nodded towards two of her subordinates.

"Jenkins, Hudson, take this man aside, we'll take care of the rest of the vehicles." she said in a tired tone of voice, the soldiers in questions replied with bored-looking salutes as they motioned Howl to follow them.

It seemed that even in this world, guard duty was not the preferred assignment of soldiers.

"Alright sir, this won't take too long." the soldier, named Hudson judging by the name tag, yawned before continuing lethargically "You're gonna show us the I.D section of your scroll, then we're gonna ask you a few questions and then we'll send you on your merry way. Simple, easy and to the point, as we said before we're not here to hold you up on your travels so long as you follow all of our instructions properly."

"Sounds fine by me, sister."

The solider shook her head slightly as Howl handed her his scroll. It was a beat up looking thing but according to the owner of the shop he had visited, it could take a beating and could store a lot of information, something Howl was all too happy to pay for despite its ragged appearance.

She cleared her throat before inquiring "Strange first name... No last name either, huh?"

Howl shrugged nonchalantly "It's the hand that's been dealt to me."

Hudson cracked a smile at that before continuing her inspection of his I.D "You were born in Brothers' Refuge? Sorry to hear about what happened about your home, that's a raw deal."

He brushed off the inquiry into the blatant lie "It's alright, we got the bastards who ruined our home back anyways."

She hummed in approval before handing him back his scroll and nodding towards the other soldier, Jenkins who stood off to the side eying the passing column of the vehicles. He snapped his head towards them after he heard his partner clear her throat.

"Alright, I'm going to take over the questioning from here on out. What are your reasons for visiting Vale, Mr...?"

"Howl." he replied simply, he was going to continue but he saw the soldier adopt a thinking pose after hearing of his name.

"Howl, Howl, Howl... where have I heard that name before?"

"Hopefully not on a wanted list." the Dragonborn replied jokingly. Though, judging by the more wary expressions on the faces of the soldiers, it wasn't one of his wiser decisions.

"Hold up, nah, you were the guy that stopped the White Fang at Brothers' Refuge, weren't you? You also stopped Bulwark from turning into a bloodbath. Yeah, I remember you, VNN did a whole segment on you the other night, wasn't long but it sounded pretty respectful to me. Remember Hudson?" asked Jenkins, turning to his fellow soldier.

"Yeah... I remember." said Hudson while eyeing the Reachman more appraisingly and with much more respect.

"It seems my reputation precedes me..." said Howl sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head.

"Man, mad respect to you for taking down a whole White Fang company, those are some vicious bastards. Anyways, we should probably get back to the questions, yeah? Where were we again?"

"I believe you asked what the purpose of my visit was." interjected Howl "I'll be attending Beacon Academy."

Jenkins nodded "Sounds about right, you sure you don't want to join the Valean Army? We could use people like you. It might not be as glamorous as the Huntsman lifestyle but we get decent pensions and more job security."

Howl shrugged in response "Sorry, but I have people waiting for me over there. Maybe in another life, brother."

"Eh, suit yourself. Normally I'd ask you where you're staying, what's your occupation and all that but you're attending Beacon so that pretty much answers all those questions. Beacon attendees get more leeway in the process anyways, Ozpin doesn't like his students being harassed as they enter the city. Gives them a negative view of the academy or something. So you're pretty much free to go unless you want to confess to a crime or something."

"That was easy." said Howl in surprise.

"What'd you expect? A stop and frisk?" asked Hudson with a raised brow.

"Well where I'm from, soldiers and city guards tend to be more suspicious of outsiders. That, and you also have the White Fang running around causing trouble and rising amounts of Grimm attacks so wouldn't the capital be more on guard?"

"Hey now, don't mistake our openness for complacency, we've got more soldiers on guard duty and standby than ever. It's just that one of the conditions in the Vytalian Pact's treaty is that the Kingdoms must be open to travelers, except in the case of attacks, so long as they're a part of the Pact. Free trade and all that. That's why we got so many soldiers posted at the gates, we're supposed to act as deterrents in place of closed gates, got it?"

"Do you not support this policy?" Howl asked curiously, noticing a certain amount of disdain in the soldier's voice.

"I guess you could say that, especially in times like these. That condition made more sense when we only had the Grimm to worry about that but with the White Fang being a problem it means that we can't properly defend the city. Plus it takes away soldiers that could be defending Frontier towns and places them right here in Vale. But, if it means being a part of the Vytalian Pact and all of the benefits it brings with it, I'll take it." explained Jenkins.

"Take Vacuo, for instance." interceded Hudson "Their government voted to leave the Pact as soon as the White Fang got a little more rowdy, said they needed to look after their own citizens first. Guess they thought that they could rely on themselves. A decade later and they're experiencing all sorts of economic problems and the new government is already trying to reopen negotiations to enter the Pact."

"Heh, who wants to visit Vacuo anyway? Place is a fucking hellhole."

"Well, thank you for answering my question. I suppose I'll just be on my way now, unless you have any more questions for me?" asked Howl as he readjusted his satchel.

"Nah, you're good to go." said Hudson, waving him off.

"Good luck at Beacon!" said Jenkins as the pair returned back to their squad.

* * *

Howl walked in a trance through the large crowds of people passing through the walkway that led to the series of valleys that made up the city of Vale. He had to remind himself to pick his jaw up from off the floor and not stop and gawk at the sight that lay before him. It was... well, it was beyond anything he could've imagined.

The wall that stretched between a mountain chain that sheltered the city and the sea was actually built atop a series of ridges and hills that were higher than the actual ground level of the outskirts of the city, this allowed Howl and other travelers a gorgeous view of a community that seemed to almost stretch beyond the horizon. The sheer length of its existence could be seen in the various styles of architecture that dotted the valleys with some structures resembling some of the buildings found in Solitude while others looked more modern (or futuristic in Howl's case.) The most noticeable buildings were a group of structures centered around a river that Howl barely caught a glimpse of through the mass of buildings located in the city center. They seemed to rival the mountains in height, their tips attempting to pierce the grey clouds that reflected off of their glass surfaces.

Howl took a break from walking and simply leaned on the guardrail of the winding road that steadily led down into the city, he reached into his trusty satchel and took out a pack of black Mistralian Spirits, placing a cigarette into his mouth before lighting it. He didn't know why but it was like the fact that he was in another universe was finally hitting him at that moment. It was hard to explain rationally but everything he had seen up to that point could be compared to something similar he saw or read about while in Skyrim: he had already heard tales of Dwemer airships flying throughout the skies in Tamriel, most faunus weren't as outlandish as most of the Khajiit he had come across, the towns and villages he had seen weren't as big as Whiterun or as populated as Solitude. But Vale was simply an entirely different beast.

' _I'd be surprised if any part of Tamriel developed this far forward with all the world-ending threats that seem to pop up every decade or so_.' thought Howl darkly while taking a drag of his cigarette.

He turned and stared at the towering structure nestled into the mountain chain east of the city: Beacon Academy. He still didn't know why he accepted Qrow's offer join the prestigious institution that trained Vale's huntsmen. He wasn't even sure if the old huntsman had as much sway among the faculty as he said he did. That thought made Howl chuckle, traveling all across Vale's southern frontier only to find out that it was all for nothing reminded of when Delphine stole the horn of Jurgen Windcaller.

He sighed at that, those were happier, less complicated times. When he didn't have to decide between an organization that could help him combat the Thalmor and the old dovah that had been almost fatherly to Howl as he sought to understand the powers that had transformed him into one of Tamriel's illustrious heroes. When he had to wipe out his own people...

Howl tossed aside his cigarette and stomped out its embers before continuing down the path towards the city. He ran his hands through his hair combing it backwards as a thought came unbidden to his mind.

' _How in Oblivion am I supposed to get up that cliff?_ '

* * *

More than ever, Howl found that he rather missed the various landscapes of Skyrim when compared to the claustrophobic streets of Vale. The buildings he had marveled at from a distance towered above him, making him feel trapped, that combined with the massive amounts of people milling about didn't create a very pleasant experience. However, his wanderlust and his love for exploration slowly overpowered his aversion to the urban environment and he began to flow naturally through the crowds.

' _Su'um ahrk morah. You will push the world harder than it pushes back._ '

His head was on a swivel as he tried to take everything in at once. The neighborhood he found himself in was close to the large river that cut across the city and was marked by cobbled roads and interconnected buildings made out of red brick and marble stairs leading up to their entrances. Lamps and trees lined the sidewalks with cars parked right besides them; all in all it was a nice neighborhood, very beautiful in Howl's mind, he decided that if we was going to buy a house in the city he would probably buy one in that neighborhood. Unfortunately, it seemed to be a purely residential neighborhood with the occasional storefront popping up among the residences so it was unlikely that he would find any lodging there before he went to Beacon.

It had taken him at least three hours to get to that point, during which he was able to get a better understanding of at least the main road in the city and also learn how he was supposed to get up the cliff that Beacon was perched on. Near the main gate was a welcome center for all those who migrated into the capital by land as opposed to by ship or airship. A rather bubbly desk clerk gave him a pamphlet which had a map of the city as well as the most popular tourist destinations, the best restaurants, etc. and instructions on how to get up to the academy. Apparently airships to and from his objective were only available at the beginning and end of semesters while Bullheads (the vehicles used in the evacuation of Brothers' Refuge) would be made available as soon as the school year started. It didn't make a lot of sense to Howl so he just assumed it served as a rite of passage like at the College of Winterhold or a method to keep people from hanging around the campus while it was empty.

The nice residential neighborhoods seemed to melt away as he progressed further and further towards the river, they seemed to morph into something else before his very eyes. He didn't quite know how to describe the new area he found himself in but if he had to associated it with a word, it would have to be concrete. Everything seemed to be made out of it, the trees that dotted the previous communities disappeared along with the lamp posts and were instead replaced with more utilitarian and-dare he say it-ugly looking streetlights. The streets became more congested as well and the residents of the district reminded him of Riverside back at Markarth but, instead of miners covered in soot, the people were men and women (human and faunus) covered in variety of different Dusts as they traveled to and from their various jobs. All in all, it seemed that Vale's various industrial jobs were centered around the river, or rather the lower river closer to the harbor.

The harbor was as, if not more, active than the rest of the district with trucks and forklifts zooming around, trying to deliver crates and containers as efficiently as possible. None of the ships docked there seemed to be designed with the transportation of people specifically in mind but he would make do.

He eventually found a ship delivering goods to Beacon after inquiring with about ten captains and with a little bit of gold slid exchanged under the table, he was on his way to the docks located at the base of the cliffs.

He stared at the road leading up the cliffs in disdain.

' _How in Oblivion am I supposed to get up that road?_ '

Oh right, Whirlwind Sprind.

* * *

Howl shielded his eyes from the blinding light as he made it out of the last tunnel on the road up to Beacon only to be greeted by a familiar figure standing by a tree.

"Heh, you actually got here, huh? Took you long enough." said Qrow tauntingly, one hand on his hip, the other tilting a flask into his mouth.

"Don't tell me you've just been standing there waiting for me." replied Howl as he advanced past the huntsman with an annoyed grimace on his face.

' _How did he get here before me?_ '

"Nah our cameras detected you coming up the cliffs so I was sent to meet you and bring you to Oz for your meeting." he paused before a mischievous grin appeared on his face "I actually got here a couple weeks ago, I had plenty of time to rest and restock on some vital supplies." he continued smugly while practically rubbing his flask in the younger man's face.

"How?!" Howl growled.

"'How' what?"

"How did you get here before me?"

"Well, I took an airship, of course! Ah, the wonders of modern technology..."

Howl stopped dead in his tracks.

Qrow stopped as well, taking a moment to look at his young pseudo-protégé before bursting out laughing at the look on his face.

"Don't tell me- you actually traveled all the way here on foot?! No way! I thought when you were going back into town you were looking for an airship! Please tell me you at least hitchhiked or something." said the huntsman after recovering from a lack of air.

"I don't even know what that is." said Howl in frustration.

"Aw man, that's rich. I'm glad you took my test so seriously kid, it really makes me feel good as your mentor to see you go in with maximum effort."

"Who made you my mentor?" asked Howl before he took a deep breath. "You know what? It's fine. Everything is fine. I learned plenty of things and got to test out my aura. I even made it here on time. Everything is fine."

"That's the spirit, kid." said Qrow while clapping the young man on the back "Sometimes it's about the journey, not the treasure, am I right? Now, come on, let's hurry up before Glynda gets mad at us."

* * *

The headmaster's office was large, excessively large in Howl's eyes considering the only things in the room were a desk by a window where one could look at the academy's campus and even some of Vale and a cabinet filled with mugs, plates and what he assumed to be ingredients for a certain beverage. Qrow immediately made to join the two figures at the desk but the Dragonborn took his time walking to the solitary chair positioned in front of the headmaster, taking in the details of the room. Clocks seemed to be the dominant theme, which made sense considering where they were located; cogs or cog-like designs appeared all over the room, the window was basically a giant one and above them were even more cogs.

He shifted his gaze towards the people at the other end of the room as he walked towards them at a leisurely pace. Qrow had taken his place by the headmaster and had decided to lean against the far end of the futuristic desk with his arms crossed as he gazed impatiently at the prospective huntsman. Ozpin stood patiently by his rather phallic-looking chair with a stoic look on his face; Howl would've compared him to an automaton had he not bothered to push his glasses up his nose before noticing his gaze and offering the Dragonborn a small, but warm smile. It was hard to get a read on his age, while he had grey hair, his face seemed oddly timeless. Finally, last but not least, was a beautiful looking, middle-aged woman with a stern look on her face, she had her arms crossed as well but stood straight with dignity.

Howl noticed that she too was getting impatient judging by the riding crop tapping away at her waist so he decided to hurry his pace. He reached the desk with quick long strides (though hopefully not too quick to seem awkward) and thrust out his hand across the desk.

"Headmaster Ozpin I presume? It's an honor to meet you and to be offered this chance to attend such a prestigious academy."

Qrow looked at him with shock before he quickly schooled his expressions. Calling people 'brother' or 'sister' was a habit from his days as a member of the Glenmoril Tribe and was a hard one to get rid of but he was able to control it when it counted. He figured that it was always prudent to approach figures of authority with formality then see what he could get away with at a later point in time.

The woman seemed a little surprised as well but he assumed it was for a different reason, she probably didn't expect someone with tattoos carved into their face to be so polite. She adopted a more appraising look, one which Howl ignored as he focused on the person behind the desk.

Ozpin stared at his outstretched limb for a second before taking a sip of whatever was in the cup. What a power move.

He then promptly shook his hand and said "Thank you for coming Mr. Howl, please have a seat. Can we offer you any refreshments? We have coffee, hot chocolate and tea."

"No thank you." Howl replied simply as he sunk into the seat and slid one leg over the other.

"Are you sure? The journey from Lantana is quite the long one, especially on foot."

The Dragonborn sent a pointed glare Qrow's way before replying "Ah, it's fine- I wouldn't want to be a bother."

"Very well then, allow me to introduce my colleagues then. You've already met Qrow Branwen, one of my most trusted colleagues, you'd be hard pressed to find a more accomplished huntsman than him. The fact that you impressed him enough to unlock your aura and convince me to have this meeting is quite a feat."

"Eh, I think he was more impressed with my choice of drink rather than my merits as a potential huntsman." said Howl jokingly, ignoring the desperate, silent pleas to stop talking from the elder huntsman "All I had to do was bribe him with one of the finer brews in my collection."

The glib expression was wiped off his face when he noticed the headmaster and the woman glaring at Qrow and the hunstman sweating nervously from the heat of their gazes.

' _He didn't tell them? That... makes sense. I'll spare him but he should consider this payback for letting me go to Oblivion and back just to get here._ '

Howl laughed boisterously, but with a hint of nervousness as he rushed to save the older man "I was just joking of course. A hunter as accomplished as Qrow here would never fall for such a cheap trick now would he?"

Perhaps he was laying it on a bit thick but Ozpin seemed happy enough to let it slide but the expression on the woman's face promised pain- albeit at a later date.

Ozpin cleared his throat "Moving on. On my left here is Glynda Goodwitch, she will be your Combat Instructor should you choose to attend this academy. She also oversees much of the day-to-day operations of the academy, helping me with administrative work. If I am unavailable at any time during the school year, it would be wise to go to her for any problems concerning your attendance hear at Beacon."

He turned to her and offered a nod "Pleased to meet you."

She nodded back.

"Now usually prospective students must send in an application along with a response essay responding to one of many questions offered to them, this along with their academic records are required in order for us to see if they would be a good fit for our rigorous curriculum. We also arrange for them to be interviewed by alumni to get a better grasp on their personality." started Ozpin.

Howl started to sweat slightly. He had done none of that. On top of that, Beacon's process seemed much more complicated than Winterhold's where one could just cast a relatively simple spell (or perform a shout) to get in.

"Obviously you're a relatively unique case seeing as how you have no academic records to speak of and how you're getting in based on a huntsman's recommendation so we'll have to simplify the process somewhat. First we'll start off with an interview. Please show us the I.D section of your scroll."

The Dragonborn did as he was told, handing his scroll across the table to Ozpin as the other two people converged around him to read Howl's information over his shoulder.

Qrow's head immediately shot up, he then sent Howl a suspicious look before going back to analyzing the scroll.

' _Something's wrong._ '

"Your accent is strange." noted Ozpin in a noncommittal tone, not even bothering to look up from the device.

"For you perhaps." replied Howl, somewhat defensively as he shifted in his seat.

The headmaster chuckled at that before pressing on "It's just that I've had the pleasure of meeting people from Brother's Refuge, your place of birth according to your I.D, but none of them had your accent."

' _Oh dear_.'

"I picked it up when I spent some time abroad." said Howl in reply. Technically true, but it obviously didn't satisfy the people across from him.

"Hm, where did you travel to?"

"The mountains. In the north."

"Atlas then."

Howl didn't reply, he found it hard to find an adequate response much less keep his composure in the tense atmosphere. It was like debating with a centuries-old dovah all over again, Ozpin seemed to have Paarthurnax's skill of detecting bullshit and using it verbally ensnare their opponents.

The headmaster, however, seemed satisfied with what he found from that line of questioning as he suddenly switched topics.

"Normally this would be stated on your academic records from whatever combat school you graduated from so we'll just have to ask you in person." he didn't seem too torn up by that fact as he continued "What is your semblance?"

"Err-"

"-Don't worry, we only need to know this so that Ms. Goodwitch here can take it into account when you spar with your fellow students and give you proper advice on how to hone your skills."

He could feel their gazes boring into him as his mind raced to come up with an answer that wasn't 'absorbing the souls of dragons and altering reality with words'. Then he remembered what Qrow had said about them detecting his presence on the road up the cliffs.

"It's super speed. Aye, I can use my aura to increase my speed. It's how I got up the cliffs so fast." he said confidently.

"That's a very useful semblance, one that will definitely help you on your path to become a huntsman." said the headmaster.

Howl breathed a sigh of relief.

"However, that's quite strange. The footage from our cameras confirms what you said but statements from the survivors of the Brothers' Refuge attack spin a different tale. One report details how you were able to-" he stopped and read from his own scroll "-'turn into a ghost' and phase through the bars of your cage. Then there's another report that states that you healed different residents by shouting. Some strange abilities for someone who has a speed semblance."

' _Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear..._ '

"Then there's Qrow's report from when he unlocked your aura where he said that it felt like you said several different auras. Very 'ancient-feeling' auras."

' _OH DEAR, OH DEAR, OH DEAR..._ '

"It appears that you're not being entirely truthful with us, Mr. Howl." said Ozpin as he set the scrolls down on his desk before steepling his hands and staring down the young man before him, Ms. Goodwitch and Qrow joining in.

"I'm not from around here!" blurted out Howl.

"Oh? Whatever do you mean?" Ozpin wasn't surprised by his statement at all.

"I'm not from Remnant. I was sent here after a battle with one of my enemies, he banished me from our world despite me winning our little spat. That's how the White Fang captured me at Brothers' Refuge- they found me while I was unconscious."

Silence.

Maybe it wasn't his wisest decision. It probably wasn't wise at all but Howl couldn't find a way out of that situation besides through bloodshed. He was confident he would be fine as long as he could use Dragon Aspect in time.

Ozpin cleared his throat "You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe you at all."

Howl simply sighed before reaching into his satchel and pulling out one of his staves.

Silence.

"My satchel is enchanted to be able to hold the many items that I've found on my journey. Don't ask me how it works, Enchanting was one of the many schools of magic in which I was completely incompetent."

The headmaster seemed alarmed "Magic?"

Howl nodded "Aye... I'd show off a spell but I'm afraid that I've been unable to perform any since I've arrived in Remnant."

He reached into his bag once more, ignoring the stares of the people across from him, and pulled out a map of Skyrim.

Howl pointed to the Reach "That's where I'm from. It's called the Reach, a beautiful land of mountains and juniper trees. I was born into one of the native tribes that opposed the occupation of our land by the people to the east in Skyrim. I'd rather not get into the details but I managed to escape around when I was fourteen and explore the rest of the country while helping out where I could."

He looked up and was surprised by Qrow's expression- it wasn't one of disbelief, but rather one of empathy. Ms. Goodwitch's was more stern, she'd make a good gambler though he doubted that she would be pleased by that compliment. Ozpin seemed curious.

"That doesn't explain the multiple souls." he said.

The Dragonborn sighed but explained anyways "Okay, so here's the basic gist of it. In my world there were beings known as dovah, dragons in our language, though it'd be more accurate to describe them as the offspring of the divine of time- or would they be shards of his soul? Either way, they were believed to be extinct until recently where Alduin, the eldest son of said divine, returned to Skyrim and raised old dragons from the dead. However, there was a prophesy that stated that a hero with the soul of a dragon would also emerge to try and stop Alduin from dominating the world. Hero in a metaphysical sense- you know what? Let's not get into that. Anyways, because the hero would be blessed with the ability to absorb the souls of the dragons that they slayed."

Howl took a deep breath before looking up and seeing various expressions ranging from shock to disbelief to confusion.

"Ah- that's a very simplified version, I obviously had to-"

"And I assume that you're the hero of this prophesy?" interrupted Ozpin.

"Yes, that would be me. The Dragonborn."

"How many souls did you... absorb?"

"Eh, I lost count after a while but if I had to guess, I'd say maybe around a hundred."

Silence once more.

"Alright, consider yourself accepted. The school year starts in two weeks, we'll send the necessary information to your-"

"Ozpin!" roared Ms. Goodwitch "You can't be serious! Ms. Rose I can understand, but this?"

The headmaster raised a hand, cutting off his subordinate.

"There's one more question that we usually ask applicants: why do you want to become a huntsman?"

"I want to be a hero- or rather, I want to be a hero based off of my own merits not because I was destined to become one. I want to help people." said Howl passionately, a far cry from his previous measured responses.

"Surely you could help people by becoming a doctor, couldn't you? Use your ability to heal people." pressed Ozpin.

Howl scratched the back of his head nervously before replying "The tribe I was born into- they were terrible people who used unrestrained violence to achieve their goals and, for most of my life, I only watched. I stood by and did nothing as they ravaged our homeland in order to supposedly set it free. Even when I finally realized what I truly was I still only fled, I did nothing to stop them at first. That's why I promised that I would never stand by when someone needs help, when someone thinks they're in a situation they can't escape from. Sure, I could save people by healing them but that's not why the divines blessed me. They blessed me with the ability to fight and that's what I'll do."

"I'll admit it that it's somewhat selfish of me. At the end of the day, some part of me still believes that I can redeem myself by helping others. And what gives me the right to intrude in other people's affairs? I don't really have an answer for that, I just have to believe that what I'm doing is the right thing to do despite the reasons behind my actions."

"As I said before, the school year starts in two weeks on Monday. All information will be sent to your scroll before then and- don't worry- all textbooks and uniforms will be provided to you when you arrive here after initiation. Also, I'd like to further discuss the world you came from and your abilities but it'll be dark soon and I don't want to keep you for too long. I look forward to seeing you again, Mr. Howl." said Ozpin somewhat soberly before standing up and gesturing towards the elevator.

Howl looked around at the other people in the room: Ms. Goodwitch looked torn between offering him a sympathetic glance and tearing off Ozpin's head with her bare hands. Qrow on the other hand... well, it looked like he wanted to drown himself with his flask.

He decided not to overstay his welcome.

 ** _QUEST COMPLETED_ : A Beacon of Hope**

* * *

The room was silent until a ding was heard from the elevator. That's when all hell broke loose.

"You've finally gone insane, Ozpin! All these years, and you decide to lose it now?!" cried out Glynda while tearing at her hair.

Qrow on the other hand was too busy gulping down the contents of his flask before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then starting all over again.

Ozpin simply sighed before taking a sip of the lukewarm hot chocolate in his mug. He probably was insane. It was hard not to be insane after being reincarnated hundreds of times, probably impossible.

"Over a hundred souls." he said slowly and quietly, a neat trick to force people to listen to you.

Glynda stopped shouting and Qrow stopped drinking.

"He has a hundred souls-worth of aura and what would you have me do? Let him walk free? No, it's better to keep him contained here where we can watch him and maybe even provide guidance. Over a hundred souls... I'd rather have someone with that amount of potential on our side, wouldn't you?" asked Ozpin rhetorically.

"So, what? You plan to invite him to our meetings? To unleash that sort of power on our students?" asked Glynda in reply.

"Maybe in time once I get a better read on him." admitted the headmaster freely "As for spars... well, you're the combat instructor so I won't tell you how to do your job, I'll trust you to see to the safety of every party involved. Just like how I hope you'll trust as you have for all these years to do the right thing."

Glynda crossed her arms and looked away, displeased at his blatant guilt-tripping.

"I think Ozpin made the right choice here." chimed in Qrow seriously, stuffing his flask back into his pocket "Not only in terms of how it could help us but also how it could help him. It kind of seems like we grew up in the same environment, y'know? If I hadn't gone to Beacon I don't even know what I would've done with my life, especially if I was stuck in that tribe. And I think you should give the kids a little bit more credit, Glynda. You've got Pyrrha fucking Nikos who decided to come here for some reason, the Schnee heiress, the White Fang girl and my darling nieces, of course. Beacon's got a good freshman crop this year, have a little faith."

"Let's not forget that aura is only effective as a tool if the user knows how to use it properly. Unless he's some sort of prodigy, it'll most likely be a glorified shield at best."

"Fine, you've all made your point. We'll just see how it turns out, I suppose. I'll do my best to guide them." said Glynda in acceptance, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sure you will, Glynda, you haven't failed them yet." said Ozpin reassuringly "While we're on the topic of failing people... how was the 'brew' Qrow?"

"Eh... that what now?" asked Qrow in reply, his flask liberated from his pocket.

"Yes, Qrow... how was the 'brew'?" asked Glynda, her glasses flashing and her violent aura unleashed at the reminder of the huntsman's weakness to alcohol.

"Shit..."

* * *

 **WARNING: Many cigarettes were harmed in the making of this chapter, all for a good cause I assure you.**

 **So Season 6 has been pretty cool so far... I won't get into it too much in case some of you haven't watched it but I liked how they really went in depth on Ozpin's character though I think I may be the only Ozpin Truther left after last episode.**

 **Anyways, some parts of this chapter were challenging to write for me, but I got into my groove in the parts with dialogue. I guess it's just more fun to write interactions between characters.**

 **Review, follow, favorite if you enjoyed the story.**

 **See y'all next chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**My final gift to you all before my break ends!**

 **Thank you for all the kind reviews, I answered some of them via PM but I'll answer some of the more common questions I noticed.**

 **First, we have Howl's semblance. Let my start off by saying that not even Howl knows what his semblance is. I'll give you a hint though: I've been focusing a lot on souls and one of my favorite anime is Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood.**

 **Some of you have also been curious about Howl's access to Tamriel's magic and, don't worry, he won't have access to anything besides his enchanted equipment. Since he's essentially cut off from Magnus, he won't be able to receive any more magicka and thus he won't be able to perform any magic.**

 **Anyways, I don't own Elder Scrolls or RWBY, Bethesda and Rooster Teeth do. On to the story!**

 **Chapter 5:** Acceptance, or a Lack Thereof

* * *

A pair of vibrant green eyes gazed back into his own. Her head was framed by crimson hair which was kept out of her face by a bronze crown-like accessory. She was beautiful.

He flipped the box over in disinterest opting instead to do the puzzles on the back for the umpteenth time as he shovelled the marshmallow cereal into his mouth. Cereal definitely wasn't his favorite choice for dinner but his mom was going to be home late because of work and, well, Jaune didn't know anything about cooking an edible meal.

The only son of the Arc family heard the front door slam open downstairs.

"Jaune?!" his mom called out from the entrance, the anger in her voice clear to anyone that heard her. Which meant at least half of the neighborhood.

Panic lanced through his system and his fight or flight instincts activated. If there was one thing that learned in his short life, it would be to never anger the normally kind and loving Juniper Arc. Her bouts of rage didn't last long but they were usually followed by long sessions of guilt tripping and her children having to reassure her that she was an awesome mother.

"Yeah mom?" Jaune called out tentatively, his eyes surveying the kitchen to make sure that there wasn't a mess. There wasn't thankfully, he didn't want fuel added onto the fire.

"Why the hell do we have a letter from Beacon Academy addressed to Jaune Arc?!" she shouted as she stomped up the stairs, the sounds reverberating throughout the small townhouse.

Jaune's blood ran cold at that. Sweat poured down his forehead like a waterfall. Why did he have to forget to check the mailbox? The plan was to send in the application with false documents and, if he was accepted, he would show it off to the family and everyone would hopefully be pleasantly surprised. If he was denied, however, he would've just thrown away the letter so he wouldn't have to endure relentless teasing from his sisters or the pitying looks from his mom.

As the loud footsteps got closer to his position, Jaune's mind turned back to a movie he watched as a kid for some reason. Maybe if he just stood really still his mom wouldn't see him and he would escape her wrath.

She stepped through the doorway and they briefly made eye contact before Jaune quickly ducked his head and stared at his cereal. She looked as pristine as ever despite her anger; her greying blonde hair was tied into a neat bun, the store's uniform that she wore was free of any wrinkles and her face remained somewhat youthful despite her age and being the single caretaker of a family of eight. Regardless of how he wasn't facing her, he could feel the heat of her gaze focused on the back of his head like the laser sight on a sniper.

She slammed the letter down onto the table besides him. It made a satisfying sound.

"Open it." she said coldly, he looked up briefly and saw that her arms were crossed "Don't you want to see if you got accepted or not?"

The young blond gulped as he pushed aside his bowl of Pumpkin Pete's and reached for the letter. He took a moment to look at the crossed axes flanked by 'Beacon Academy' in neat text before flipping it over and tearing it open. His heart stopped as he read the opening paragraph.

' _Dear Mr. Arc,_

 _Thank you for your application for admission at Beacon Academy. We were humbled by your determination to become a huntsman and your various academic achievements but, unfortunately, we do not have enough space to accommodate you at our institution. We hope that you continue your efforts to train to become a protector of our society and that you send another application next year._ '

Jaune closed his eyes and sighed.

"Well?" his mother asked, despite knowing the results of his efforts to achieve his dream thanks to his body language.

He took a deep breath, trying to prevent any anger from leaking into his voice "I got denied."

Her gaze turned sympathetic before hardening once more "And do you know why you got denied?"

Jaune's breath hitched.

"Because I'm not good enough."

His mom sighed sadly as she pulled out the chair next to him before sitting down and rubbing his back lightly as he tried to hold back his tears.

"What were you thinking, Jaune?" Juniper asked, her tone forlorn.

"I just... I just wanted to be a huntsman. I wanted to make everyone proud of me for once." he replied dully.

"Oh Jaune..." she sighed once more "What would your father think of this?"

"How should I know? He's never around!" he snarled before immediately regretting it. His mom knew that better than anyone.

Jaune felt her soothing hands pause for a moment before they restarted their ministrations. He felt the deep stirrings of shame in his stomach as he ducked his head again.

He had always wanted to be like his father and all who bore his family's name before him. They were noble and honorable heroes who wielded an unbreakable sword and shield in the defense of those who couldn't defend themselves. It was a goal he still strived towards even after his father had refused to train him for whatever reason. It was a goal he still strived towards even when he realized the lifestyle of a huntsman wasn't all it was cut out to be at the young age of 8 when he came to the sudden realization that he hadn't seen his father in two months.

The absences got worse as he got older, his father going on jobs that even lasted six months in order to support his family. Jaune understood why he did it, though that didn't mean that he didn't resent his father for it at the same time.

"Sorry." he mumbled as he looked up to see her reaction.

"I know," she said as she rubbed her forehead, "just go to your room, we'll talk about this tomorrow."

Jaune nodded slightly before standing up, the chair he was sitting in making a scraping noise as it slid across the floor.

"You know you're going to have to find a job, right?" his mom's voice called from the table before he left the room "We can't have you sitting around doing nothing."

He said nothing in reply as he trudged to his room. What was he supposed to say to that? The blond supposed that was just his mom's way of reminding him that life went on even if his dreams didn't.

Jaune shut the door gently behind him before he flopped backwards onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling for a while before pulling out his scroll and browsing through the local news, his eyes skimming the headlines for anything interesting before settling on one that seemed hidden in the web browser for some reason.

' _Local Schoolgirl Stops Dust Robbery.'_

The Arc normally would've laughed at such an absurd headline and assumed it came from The Shallot if it weren't on the front page of the VNN website. Apparently, a robbery led by Roman Torchwick himself, the leader of the Will-O'-Wisps gang which dominated Central Vale, was stopped by a 15-year old huntress-in-training who was aided by one of the faculty at Beacon Academy who just happened to be passing by. His heart stopped at what he read in the last passage of the article: she was offered a spot at Beacon for her role in stopping the infamous crime lord.

Jaune grit his teeth in anger; did that mean that she stole his spot at the school? He deflated immediately as that selfish thought crossed his mind. There he was acting all entitled when he applied with _fake_ transcripts while some girl was doing some actual good in the world.

He sighed and turned on the old TV that sat across from his bed on the opposite wall, he then waited a moment before turning on the console sitting beneath it; both devices were hand-me-downs from his older sisters. They were pretty old but they still got the job done.

"Jaune?" the voice of his younger sister, Kelly, called out from his doorway, startling him.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Is everything okay?" she asked with concern, her big blue eyes shining as she walked further into the room and plopped down next to him.

"Yeah..." the older brother replied with a sigh.

He turned and saw Kelly's eyes light up as she saw the console's boot up screen.

She turned toward him hurriedly and asked "Oooh, can I watch you play?"

Jaune laughed before starting one of his games "Sure, but I'm not letting you anywhere near the controller this time. Not after you deleted my save."

* * *

Howl's mood was quickly turning sour. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was forced to reveal his origins to people he really didn't trust at all; that he really didn't care about, he couldn't really think of a scenario where that knowledge would be turned against him. Obviously, though, he would try to keep it under wraps, it would troublesome if everyone looked at him like he was some sort of freak. Moreso than usual, at least...

No, he was pissed because his feet were sore and he was tired and he was hungry for something other than bread and cheese stored in his satchel.

How hard was it to find an inn in this Divines-forsaken city?

There were bars everywhere but none of them had any lodging available, some had even barred him from entrance for some reason, claiming that he was too young. First of all, where an Oblivion was a traveler weary from the rough road to Vale supposed to find shelter? A cardboard box in an alley? And he saved a universe from destruction, how was he too young?

There were also dust shops located on every block! And all of them had terrible puns as their names. It was sickening. The Dragonborn stopped and stared at the one in front of him: _Collecting Dust_ was written in fancy script on a sign located above the entrance, lights positioned below it in order to make sure that it was legible even in the dead of night. He looked at his scroll and saw that it was 8:00 P.M, however because it was early in the spring it was dark out and the streets were rather empty save for a few men in suits milling about. The Dragonborn looked at the dust on display in the windows and was amazed at the variety of the colors, if only soul gems were so vibrant...

Howl blinked in confusion as he turned towards the glass door, or rather the ' _CLOSED_ ' sign posted on it. Did shops in Remnant usually close so early?

' _And why are the lights on?_ ' he thought, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

He felt someone tap his shoulder roughly before he turned around and saw a man in a black suit with a red tie and sunglasses stood directly before him. Howl looked down and saw that both of his gloved hands were curled into fists and that his chest was puffed out in an attempt to look intimidating.

"I'm gonna need you to find another store to shop at, pal." said the man, his voice hoarse voice and his breath smelling like cheap cigarettes and coffee. He made a mental note to check his breath later.

"And why is that, brother?" asked Howl, backing away slightly as his left hand drifted towards the sword sheathed on the back of his hip. He turned his head slightly to look into the store again and frowned at what he saw.

"With all the dust shops hit recently, the owner's decided to hire a little... protection for his business. He's also closed the store early to discourage any troublemakers such as yourself from getting any ideas." the thug said in reply, his hand also drifting to his weapon of choice.

"Is that so? You're hired protection?"

"Yeah, that's right." said the man, his lips pressed into a firm, thin line.

"Then why are your men threatening the store's owner?" asked Howl casually but with his body tensed.

"Fuck it!" the thug cried as he attempted to draw his weapon only to be interrupted.

By Howl's fist crashing into his face, specifically the right side of his face where his jaw connected to his skull. It was an instant knockout, the effectiveness of his blow aided by the variety of rings on his fingers.

The Dragonborn turned to the door and tried opening it and was pleasantly surprised by the fact that it was left unlocked; apparently the gang holding up the place was full of amateurs. He quietly closed it behind him and crept down an aisle towards an unsuspecting gang member who was too busy reading a magazine to notice him. Howl quietly thanked Turrianus for the muffle enchantment placed on his boots as he silently walked towards his target before placing him in a headlock. The struggles ceased after a few moments and Hhe gently set the thug on the floor before walking to the edge of the aisle and peeking his head out to look at the counter.

One of the thugs was in the process of pulling the store owner halfway over the counter and yelling at him while two of his compatriots stood by his side idly, each holding a briefcase in their hand. Howl looked around other parts of the store for any more of the robbers but his view was impeded by the many aisles that contained dust and dust-related objects.

' _Aura Whisper would still be too loud - shit, why didn't I think of that before I walked in? I might as well cut off the head of the snake before he receives too many reinforcements._ ' thought Howl before walking calmly towards the counter, his footsteps muffled.

He saw the owner's eyes widen in worry, the extra pair of ears on the top of his head rising sharply from their previously flattened state. Howl made a shushing motion as he approached one of the thugs.

The Dragonborn then proceeded to place the palm of his hand against the crook's head before slamming it into the counter.

A loud cracking sound echoed throughout the shop and blood splattered and streaked against the surface as the criminal slid face-first down its surface.

' _Huh, no aura,_ ' thought Howl idly, ' _I guess I can't use my sword on these assholes, I don't want to end up on the wrong side of the law before the first day of school after all._ '

He then proceeded to throw a punch towards the ring leader of the criminals who was unable to defend himself due to the fact that his hands were occupied with the shopkeeper's collar. It wasn't a one-hit knockout like his last strike but it was enough to send him stumbling back a couple of feet, dazed.

The last member of the villainous trio adapted better to the sudden assault as he threw his brief case at Howl's head as soon as the leader stumbled off into the background. The Dragoborn blocked the sudden, yet clumsy attack easily by crossing his arms in front of his face, letting the briefcase bounce harmlessly off his improvised shield before falling to the floor with a loud thud. However, as his vision cleared he found out that it was just a distraction when he saw the pistol aimed at his body.

There was a split second of panic as he registered the cruel grin on his opponent's face before he drew on whatever aura he had to protect his body. He grunted as he felt multiple bullets impact against his chest, he closed his eyes when he flinched but he could still feel the light of his aura through his eyelids. It hurt like a bitch but he couldn't feel any damage aside from a few bruises at most, all of which were quickly healing.

' _I can marvel at my aura later_ ' thought Howl seriously as he turned to gaze at his opponent only to blink in surprise at what he saw.

The red glasses had slid down the thug's nose at some point which allowed Howl to see his opponent's eyes widened in terror. He looked down and saw that the criminal's hands were shaking violently before the gun clattered to the ground.

' _That wasn't that scary, was it? I just blocked his shots with my aura._ ' thought Howl in confusion.

"It's a fucking huntsman!" cried out the robber in a blind panic.

' _Ah. Right_ _._ '

Howl dispelled any possible notions of the criminal fighting back by rushing and jumping towards him and hitting him with a flying knee, knocking him out cold and sending him crashing into the wall behind him. He looked around the store for any more of the henchmen before seeing two of them approaching them with their guns drawn and angry expressions on their faces. He briefly wondered why they weren't shooting at him before he heard a set of feet scampering towards him from behind.

" **FEIM!** " he shouted out quickly, his voice thundering throughout the building as the ringleader charged through his intangible body. Howl immediately kicked him in the small of his back as soon as he returned to his corporeal form, sending him stumbling towards his compatriots at the aisles.

" **TIID KLO UL!** " he shouted once more, ignoring the burning feeling in his throat from overuse of the Thu'um in too short of a time.

The colors in the once vibrant room drained away and were replaced by a cold blue as his perception of time altered. His movements were sluggish but not as slow as the other occupants in the room; it had taken months of Howl meditating and generally abusing the shout for him to get where he was at that day but it still didn't feel natural to him. Perhaps it was his mortal body not adapting correctly to his true nature.

He charged forward towards the two remaining thugs, bypassing the stumbling leader before shoulder checking one into the aisle and punching the other in the throat, taking advantage of their slow movement. He took a moment to appreciate the scene of the one criminal hunching over and grabbing at his throat in slow motion before finishing him off by grabbing his head and slamming it down into a clean front knee strike.

If there was something that his tribe was good at teaching, it would be how to kill someone without a weapon. Elbows and knees were the perfect tool for that dark art.

Howl delivered a quick roundhouse kick to the head of the thug staggered against the aisle, knocking him out as the effects of his shout wore off, the room returning to its normal color as time broke free from his control. He took a moment to catch his breath and survey the room, silently thanking his upbringing for at least teaching him how to fend for himself. He was startled out of his reverie as the sound of sirens became louder and louder as the shop was filled with a cascade of blue-and-red lights from the police vehicles that were approaching the scene of the crime.

"Of course they show up after everything's been taken care of..." muttered the shopkeeper bitterly from behind the counter.

The Dragonborn looked down at the gang leader who, after seeing the supposed huntsman beat up on all of his men and hearing the police sirens outside, simply decided to throw up his hands in surrender whilst hanging his head in shame. Howl nodded with satisfaction at the man's choice.

" **This is the p** **olice! Come out with your hands up!** "

"Come on brother," said Howl as he lifted the man onto his feet, "let's get this over with, eh?"

He then proceeded to frogmarch the crook out the front door of the store, the shopkeep shadowing his steps warily. A barricade made of police cars had formed a semi-circle near the entrance of the shop and he could see various policemen arresting the gang members who had served as lookouts for the operation. The rest of the officers were positioned safely behind cover with their pistols drawn and aimed at the entrance. A small crowd of people had also emerged to watch the events unfold.

" **Show us them hands, boy!** " one of the policemen, most likely the highest ranked one, barked out into a megaphone.

Howl pushed the crook forward before doing as he was told, raising his hands with a bored expression on his face.

"Wait!" the shopkeeper yelled, pushing past Howl "He's with me! He helped stop these men!"

" _Helped_ stop them?" Howl muttered.

"Hobbes is that you? You're not hurt are you?!" a voice called out from the crowd.

"Tukson?" the shopkeeper muttered before replying "Nah, it's all good! My friend here swooped in and saved the day!"

"Alright! Alright!" the policeman with the megaphone shouted, still managing to sound loud despite not using the device "Set up a cordon! Get that crowd under control before it gets any bigger. The rest of you get all the thugs in cuffs. I'll take care of these two. Let's get this show on the road before any reporters show up!"

* * *

The undercurrent of tension between the faunus shopkeeper, Hobbes, and the human police sergeant, Waters, made Howl feel awkward and out of place as they gave their report of the events that had unfolded. It was almost like watching a lover's quarrel except with much less love and much more hatred; he got the feeling that those two knew each other. Various snipes were made by Hobbes at how slow the police took to get there to which the officer dutifully kept on taking notes for his report.

"Well gentlemen, you're free to go. Mr. Hobbes, we're going to have to confiscate whatever dust they stole as evidence for their trials but don't worry, the VPD will reimburse you." said Waters dismissively, snapping his notebook shut.

Hobbes frowned but nodded, walking back to the shop. Howl didn't quite know what to do so he decided to follow the shop owner and see what was going on with him.

"At least there isn't any real damage to the shop itself." said the shopkeeper with a sigh, scratching one of his extra ears.

"Be thankful for small mercies." said Howl moving to stand next to the tiger faunus.

He looked at the Dragonborn out of the corner of his eyes before nodding slightly and saying "Sorry, I never got to thank you back there for what you did. I mean, if it was just a couple of guys I could've taken care of him no sweat but if you weren't there my business would've been done for. Thank you."

"Ah, don't mention it." said Howl, scratching his cheek awkwardly at the praise.

"It's a shame though..." muttered Hobbes as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"What is?"

"The police are probably gonna take all the credit for stopping those shitheads." said the shopkeeper simply as he stared at his shop.

"Don't worry, I don't care much for fame." replied Howl in a placating manner.

"It's not that I'm worried about your fame being stolen or whatever, I just don't want those assholes getting more credit than they deserve."

The reachman hummed "Not a fan of the police then? Why not?"

"It comes with the ears," said the faunus blithely while pointing towards his scalp, "take a look around at the crowd and tell me what you see."

By then most of the crowd had disappeared, their curiosity sated, but enough had remained that Howl could get a general idea of the main occupants of the neighborhood. He saw extra pairs of ears, scales, fur, and even utters on a person who was wearing a particularly exposing outfit. Sure there were some humans but the bulk of the population of the community seemed to be faunus.

"By now we've learned not to depend on the boys and girls and blue. For years it's been the same shit over and over again: crimes being reported but police not showing up until after the damage is done, sometimes even arresting the wrong people. That and police violence being exponentially higher among my fellow faunus has led to me having a healthy distrust of our so-called protectors."

"I see..." muttered Howl, thinking back to the Grey Quarter when Windhelm was ruled by that bastard, Ulfric.

"Boy! A moment of your time please." called Waters from one of the squad cars.

"Good luck." said Hobbes tersely before moving to join the people in the crowd.

"And you, brother." called out Howl before walking towards the police sergeant.

"Thanks for sticking around, son. I know I let you go earlier." said Waters, his arms crossed as he leaned against the roof of his car "You did some fine work tonight."

"Thank you, officer." said the Dragonborn in a neutral tone of voice, unsure of where conversation was going and wary of the man due to his conversation with the shopkeeper.

"But this type of work has to stop, you getting involved in situations like these only makes the process more complicated. It makes our jobs harder."

"Are you serious?" asked Howl incredulously "You want to stand by and watch people get hurt to make your job easier?"

"Okay, maybe that was a poor choice of words," allowed the officer, shifting out of his casual pose into a more serious one "but the less you get involved the more efficient us policemen can dispense justice."

"From what I've heard you've been doing a poor job of that even before I stepped in." said the Dragonborn, his tone casual but his eyes deadly serious.

The policeman drew his lips into a thin line before asking "And where did you hear that? Actually, don't answer that, I can already guess the answer."

He sighed before continuing "The system is in place for a reason and the farther we stray from the system in pursuit of justice, the more the people we pursue will be able to exploit the system for their own profit. A clean, by-the-book series of arrests hear would've resulted in a clean, by-the-book trial resulting in those scumbags being locked away for a couple of years at least. But since you got involved, all the defense attorneys hired by whoever their bottomfeeder boss is will probably find some legal loophole to exploit to keep those boys on the streets."

' _He did a good job of pivoting away from my accusation._ ' thought Howl with some admiration. Debate and oratory were skills that were valued among the dov, Howl included.

"Now I'm gonna ask you one last time: in the future, will you make everyone's lives simpler and leave the peacekeeping to us?" asked Walters, his blue eyes boring into the Reachman's silver.

Howl thought back to his conversation with the headmaster and replied "No. I'm sorry but I made a promise, and I intend to fulfill that promise to the best of my ability."

"Alright then..." said the officer with a sigh, scratching the back of his head "Now son, I'm not saying what you did was wrong but the next time we catch you doing something like this don't think we'll be so lenient. That was vigilantism and it was against the law. And don't think some flimsy excuse like 'I was at the wrong place at the wrong place' will save you next time either, we'll be watching you."

"I know what I said was brief but consider that your last and only warning before we let you go."

Howl walked away without a word, ignoring the feeling of Waters's eyes on his back as he walked down the street. He debated walking over to Hobbes who was discussing something with the friend that had called out to him earlier but decided not to as he ducked under the police cordon. He eyed the duo as he passed them, his ears straining to catch a snippet from their intense, hushed conversation.

"Tuk, you know we're not supposed to be see in public together. It's bad enough that I got fucking robbed by those idiots." said Hobes, the urgency clear in his tone and wide eyes as he faced the burly, hairy man.

The Dragonborn grit his teeth as his curiosity and need for rest warred with each other in his brain before his logical side stepped in and reminded him that he could always seek out the tiger faunus at a later date but that he needed to find a place to stay as soon as possible. So, with a wave that probably wasn't even seen by the two, Howl walked away from the scene of the crime, his mind on the crime spree that he had involved himself in.

* * *

Howl idly flipped through another page of History: Huntsmen, scanning through a couple of the pages before nodding in satisfaction and adding it to the pile of books on the floor beside him and sighing. He felt a little despair over the slew of new subjects he would have to read about in order to gain a proper understanding of the new world he found himself in; that's not to say that he didn't enjoy reading, it was just that it was going to be a lot of work and he would have to stop any progress he made on the books he had with him from Nirn.

He checked his scroll and groaned at the time; he'd have to cut his visit to the bookstore short if he wanted to fit in a visit to Hobbes before nightfall. He would've gone earlier but apparently the beds in Vale were ten times better than any other bed he had encountered on his journey to the city since he had ended up oversleeping until noon. Most of his time spent before heading over to the neighborhood he visited the other night was shopping for school supplies and restocking on other goods that needed to be replenished.

With a grunt of exertion, Howl lifted the hefty pile of books and walked his way over to the unmanned counter of the store. He heard a hushed one-way conversation on the other side of the door behind the counter and briefly considered just walking out the door with his loot before he reminded himself how unhero-like that would be. It had taken him a month or two and a couple cuffs to the back of the courtesy of Lydia to abandon his casual kleptomania when he began his journey as the Dragonborn.

He set his books on the counter before looking around the store for a method to get the shopkeeper's attention besides kicking down the door and dragging him out to the counter so that he could get on with his day. His eyes eventually settled on a small metal bell sitting on the counter which he rung perhaps a bit too zealously as he heard an annoyed grunt and a rushed goodbye from the other side of the door.

The entrance to the back room opened up to reveal a tall, burly man with cleanly cut black hair and very large sideburns. His muscular and hairy arms were wrapped around a stack of books which he carried with ease before setting them down behind the counter. He adjusted the nametag pinned to his chest which read 'Tukson' before giving Howl a polite, professional smile.

' _He looks familiar._ ' thought Howl, unknowingly repeating the same thought running through the shopkeeper's head.

"Welcome to Tukson's Book Trade, home to every book under the son, is that all you'll be purchasing today, or do you need be to run and get something from the back?" asked Tukson professionally.

"No, this'll be it for now, I've got to meet someone soon." replied Howl as he reached into his satchel for one of his coin purses.

"Alright. Let me calculate how much it'll cost you. It'll only take a moment." said Tukson before scanning the various books with his scroll "These are some interesting topics."

"I suppose so, I'm refreshing my memory before I head off to school." said the Beacon student, his arms crossed awkwardly as he waited for the shopkeeper to finish his task.

"That's a smart decision. Where are you going?"

"Beacon."

"That's really impressive, your folks must be proud." said Tukson with a friendly grin before continuing "Your total is 113.86 lien."

"This should cover it." said Howl casually as he set ten septims on the counter. He didn't really know how much a gold coin was worth in the world's currency so he just forked over an amount that sounded reasonably low.

"Uhh, yeah that should do it." said the shopkeeper, his hand reaching a cross the counter for the coins before stopping "Actually, I lied. One should do it. Hell, it should more than do it."

"One coin," said Howl in disbelief, "for all those books?"

"Do you not know how much gold is worth here? Actually, hold on, let me search this up real quick."

' _So all this time, all those people were robbing me blind?_ ' thought Howl, a small, amused smile appearing on his face. There was no point in getting angry over it, he had way too much money available anyways. When he was sent to Nirn by Miraak he probably had around ten thousand on his person with much more being stored at High Hrothgar in an urn. His little horde. Some of it came from his salary as an officer in the Legion's auxiliaries, some came from all the tomb raiding he did while some came from wise investments.

"Yeah, so one gold coin is apparently worth over a thousand lien. I can't accept this." said Tukson somewhat regretfully, sliding the coins back across the counter.

"Oh you'll accept it." replied Howl, this time sliding only one coin across the counter "I don't have any lien and you don't want to miss out on such a business opportunity, do you?"

The shopkeeper sighed once before rebuilding his professional smile.

"Would you like me to bag that for you sir?"

"No thanks, brother, I'll just put them in my bag. No need to worry." said the Dragonborn before stuffing the books in a satchel that shouldn't have been able to fit all of them at once. He also dutifully ignored the older man's expression of visual confusion.

"You know, you look pretty familiar." said Tukson as he watched the books get packed in way with fascination.

"Yeah? I'd say the same to you."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the guy that stopped those robbers over at Hobbes's shop last night?"

Howl took a moment to finish putting the books away before looking up into the older man's eyes curiously "Aye, that'd be me. If I remember correctly, you're Hobbes's friend? The guy I saw him speaking with last night."

"That'd be me." said Tukson, miming the Beacon student "I just wanted to thank you for what you did for the neighborhood last night. It makes us all feel a bit safer knowing that there's someone else besides the police looking out for us common folk."

"Eh, don't mention it, brother." said Howl in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head before composing himself "Actually, while I'm still here, do you mind if I ask you a few questions? I was going to ask Hobbes but I figure I might as well ask you too."

"Nah, I don't mind. Go ahead."

"Well- it's more like one question. Do you know who those men were? Or rather, which particular group they belonged to?"

"Given the fact that they were targeting a dust shop and were wearing those dumb suits, I'd say that they worked for Roman Torchwick, or at least one of the lieutenants in his gang, the Will-O'-Wisps. They've grown more active and powerful in the last five years, managing to push out the competition and control Central Vale. They haven't started hitting dust shops until recently, though."

"Actually, kid, I've got a little bit of a request as well."

"I'm all ears." said Howl, contemplating the information given to him.

"I myself am actually a little bit curious as to who's behind these robberies as well. I can point you in the direction of someone who might know what's up but you'd be putting yourself at risk by entering his joint."

Howl raised an eyebrow before probing "Sounds dangerous. Also like a job for the police and not a student such as myself."

"I think we both know why you asked that question." started Tukson "I think we also both know that the police can't be relied upon to get this done. They've had plenty of opportunities to put away Torchwick before but he's gotten away every single time, if that doesn't point towards some sort of corruption then I don't know what does."

"No, there's something more to it, isn't there? You're not telling me the whole truth. Why would a bookstore owner be concerned about dust robberies? I don't see any dust around here."

"I'm just looking out for my friend is all." said the shopkeeper stoically but also totally unconvincingly.

Howl gave him a flat look and crossed his arms before the man held up his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright, you were right: there is more to it than that. It's not just dust stores that are being robbed, it's also specific members of my-" he gestured towards his chest with a hand that quickly sprouted claws "-community. Home invasions, muggings at night, robbing small businesses... we're being hit hard even if the media isn't exactly covering it. Hell, they even tried to fuck with me but I sent 'em running back to whoever their boss is. The point is, whoever's behind the robberies clearly also has some other goal in mind."

"What do you mean by 'specific' members of your community?" asked Howl.

"I've already shared more than what I'm comfortable with. However, if you do manage to find out who's been targeting us, you'll have gained my trust and I'll be sure to tell you everything I know. The whole truth."

"Eh, I'll take it. Everyone's entitled to their secrets, after all." the Dragonborn said flippantly as he slid his scroll across the counter "Could you put the person I'm supposed to investigate's information on the scroll."

"Definitely." said Tukson as he typed away on the scroll before sliding it back across to its owner "I heard Junior's got some henchmen but don't worry, they shouldn't be much more than garbage collected off the street compared to someone of your caliber."

"Thanks. And you probably shouldn't leave your shop unattended for so long, someone with far more dubious morals than I might have taken advantage of your absence, brother. Maybe hire some help if you can afford it."

Tukson simply grunted and made a shooing notion.

"See you soon." said Howl with a smile as he walked through the door, chimes sounding out his departure.

 ** _QUEST STARTED_ : Nothing but the Truth**

* * *

 **So boom, there you go. That was the first fight scene I've ever written so I hope it turned out okay since I've got another big one coming up soon.**

 **I should have the next chapter out by the 11th but I might be busy considering I'm now entering the final stretch of the semester.**

 **As always, please favorite and follow if you enjoyed my story. Also, please review. Seriously. That shit boosts my confidence.**

 **See you next chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:** Hang the DJ

* * *

Howl ignored the odd looks he received as he did some stretches outside the club's entrance, his sheathed sword and his satchel lay on the ground in front of him as he performed lunges with each of his legs before he moved on to his arms. He didn't want to pull a muscle if he got into a fight after all. As he stretched his arms behind his back, he took a moment to observe the exterior of his target location: cracked concrete sidewalks with the occasional blade of grass or weed growing between them ran along an asphalt street with a pothole right in the middle of it, a sign that read 'RUMOR' was positioned above the steel double-doors with lights placed below it, and a barrier made of cheap-looking velvet ropes was positioned at the front. A perfect exterior for a club located in the hollowed-out ruins of an old dust processing plant in the dredges of Vale's Industrial District. He had asked around with the locals and, supposedly, Junior took over the building some time after its previous owner moved out during the Mountain Glenn Migration in search of a more profitable market.

He glanced up at the orange sky and sighed.

' _No time like the present._ '

The Dragonborn put on his satchel and slid his sword snugly into his sheath before he moved to complete his quest. He hopped over the ragged barrier and pushed open the industrial doors. They opened with a rusty groan which made Howl breathe a sigh of relief, albeit with a wince at the unpleasant noise. He was worried he would have to shout his way into the building.

Inside was a narrow hallway lit by dim lights, no doubt used to shroud the disgusting aftermath of hundreds of drunken nights out. The floor was made up of concrete, a smoother kind than the type found outside, and the walls were made up of the same exposed brick that made up the exterior of the old building. It generally created a claustrophobic feeling that Howl supposed was meant to funnel the hordes of clubbers down into the area where they could actually contribute to Junior's side business.

' _Why does anyone go here?_ ' thought Howl as he walked down the narrow space that practically reeked of urban decay. That was until he got to the diamond plate steel stairs at the end of the hallway. ' _Oh..._ '

The reason why made itself clear as Howl walked down the stairs into the actual club below. White. That was the first thing that he noticed, white practically assaulted his senses: white floors, white lights and white pillars made up most of the cavernous room. Secluded booths and lounges dotted the perimeter allowing some customers a certain amount of privacy or room for discussion. A raised platform was positioned at the far end of the room where a man in what appeared to be a bear mask was tweaking a large red device with speakers hooked up to it. After he had gotten over his awe at the pristine appearance of the club, Howl noticed that there was actually a fair amount of red mixed into its color scheme. It reminded him of the Grimm in a weird way.

The low sound of murmuring filled the room as numerous guards and laborers milled about, completing various tasks or just sitting around waiting for orders. Howl's eyes narrowed as he saw the attire the guards were wearing: black suits, red ties and red sunglasses. If there was a doubt in his mind concerning the truthfulness of Tukson's claims of Junior being behind some of the robberies, it disappeared at the evidence before him. The man in question stood behind the bar, idly cleaning a glass while listening to one of his henchmen report to him. He was tall, taller than most of the people Howl had met up to that point in his various journeys, maybe standing at around seven feet. Compared to the mugshot Tukson had sent to him, he looked down right respectable with neat, slick-backed hair, a closely-trimmed beard and a sharp looking suit that looked unique enough to place him a cut above his henchmen while also sharing enough similarities to make them look like they belonged together.

Any notions of elegance or classiness were dispelled quickly as Howl watched him shout his subordinate down: "I don't give a shit if that punk's only seventeen! If he pushes that shit on my turf he gets taught a lesson!"

The Dragonborn found the scene to be somewhat comical (even if its contents were dark) as he watched the henchman's fedora get knocked slightly off tilt by the force of Junior's verbal barrage.

Junior had noticed him by then and signaled for his lackey to get lost with a sharp motion from his head. The thug scrambled away, rushing past Howl as he repositioned his hat along with his red sunglasses in an attempt to look somewhat dignified after the public scolding. The club owner/gang leader adjusted his tie slightly before going back to cleaning the shot glass in an attempt to recompose himself before their meeting. It seemed like he didn't recognize Howl or that he just didn't know that the student was responsible for his henchmen's failed robbery.

"Business or pleasure?" called out Junior as he put on a saccharine grin that might've been charming had Howl not just witnessed him ordering one of his lackeys to threaten or possibly harm a young man.

"Business, I'm afraid." replied Howl as he reached the bar. He watched as Junior's eyes narrowed as he took in his appearance and accent.

"Can I offer you a drink?" asked Junior diplomatically, albeit with an undercurrent of tension as his mind worked to solve the mystery that presented itself to him.

"Thank you for offering but I'm fine. I like to conduct my business with a clear mind, you see." replied the huntsman-in-training as he fought to keep a grin off his face as he watched the gears turn slowly in Junior's head.

"Alright..." said the boss slowly, comprehension subtly dawning on his face as he placed his the glass under the counter "How can I help you then?"

"You seem like a gentleman who appreciates honesty. No bullshit, if you would. So I'll just go ahead and ask: who's behind all the dust robberies? Besides you, of course." asked the Dragonborn as he heard several people begin to approach the bar.

Junior abandoned any notion of professionalism then: "So you're the little bastard that took care of my boys last night? Now you come into _my_ club and you fuck around with _me_ personally? You got a death wish, kid?"

"I was hoping we could just talk like normal people, y'know?" said Howl glibly, now painfully aware of the thugs surrounding him.

"Then you're a bigger idiot than I thought. Take care of him quickly, boys, we're still opening tonight."

Howl made a show of acting surprised as he turned around to be confronted with the sight of dozens of Junior's thugs surrounding him. The Thu'um took care of that dilemma rather quickly.

" **FAAS RU MAAR!** " he shouted, warping their minds into a hysterical state and sending them scattering throughout the rest of the club.

He could feel the inner flames of his soul blaze with arrogance at the sight of the _joor_ fleeing in the face of his might, their minds having been almost bent to his will. Howl frowned slightly at the upswell of draconic arrogance, such occurrences were common after Qrow had unlocked his aura, it was like he unlocked all of the souls he absorbed as well.

He elected to take a deep breath in order to tame his spirit before turning around to address the club owner "You should consider getting new henchmen, brother, the current ones are rather - OOMPH!"

Howl literally saw stars as his aura flared up impotently in an attempt to protect him from Junior's powerful blow to his head. It worked for the most part as he wasn't instantly knocked out, yet he was still sent flying across the white floor, landing in an undignified heap that made him seem way more flexible than he actually was. He got up to his feet slowly while rubbing his aching jaw, silently wondering at his first taste of the strength of one of Remnant's people. He glared balefully at Junior while his tongue explored his mouth for any damages and grimaced at the feeling of one of his two front teeth hanging loosely and painfully.

The Dragonborn grunted as he tore it out and threw it onto the floor, spitting out blood as well.

Junior chuckled menacingly at the sight, "Heh, those morons might be weak but I'm not... and neither are they. Take care of the trash, girls!"

" **FEIM!** " Howl immediately shouted after hearing the lame signal for some kind of attack and was rewarded as he narrowly avoided being skewered by a pair of claws and bladed boots. His attackers quickly retreated, putting themselves between him and Junior, allowing him to get a clear look at them.

He ignored the pain pulsating from his mouth as he observed and analyzed his new opponents: they were obviously twins (which would explain their well-coordinated attack) as they shared the same fair, attractive looks as well as the same general style. His eyes took in their lithe forms which, along with their attack, indicated that they centered their fighting styles around speed rather than power.

' _I already hate them_ ' thought Howl with an annoyed groan as he completed his analysis ' _They probably won't even let me get better equipped for this type of fight_.'

The twins looked back to Junior obediently, looking for his approval to continue their assault against the club's intruder; he simply nodded before going back to cleaning one of the glasses, the cocky bastard. They exchanged a second-long glance before circling Howl slowly like wolves circling their prey, looking for any sort of weakness. Howl unsheathed his sword slowly with his left hand, taking comfort in the familiar feel of the worn leather wrapped around the handle.

"Who is this guy, Melanie?" asked the one in red quietly, brandishing her claws threateningly yet cautiously as she circled him in a steady cadence that matched her twin's.

' _Good... talk, act confidently, lower your guard for me._ ' thought the Dragonborn patiently, waiting for any sort of weakness that would allow him to end the fight in an efficient manner. He would've used one of his more powerful shouts but he didn't want anyone outside catching wind of what was going on inside the club and he also wanted to see how people from Remnant fought compared to those from his homeland, or homeworld rather.

"Didn't you hear, Miltia? He's trash. Have you forgotten what we do with Junior's trash?" replied Melanie confidently, assuming an odd stance that would no doubt allow her to use her strange weapons properly.

Howl tensed in preparation for his next attack.

"We take-"

"Mel!" cried out Miltia in warning, having spotted Howl's next attack before he even started it. It was too late, however.

" **WULD!** " shouted Howl causing the sound of thunder to echo throughout the enclosed space. He saw the white one's eyes widen for less than a second as he appeared in front of her, striking her throat with his sword, sending her flying across the dancefloor. He made sure to hit her with the flat end of the blade, killing her then when he didn't have control of the situation would only enrage Junior and make it harder to extract the information he needed.

" **FEIM!** " he shouted again, straining his throat but sending Miltia flying through his intangible form, albeit in a way that would allow her to check over her twin's prone form. She stumbled for a bit, before regaining her balance gracefully and sprinting towards Melanie.

He cleared his throat reflexively before dashing forward in an attempt to catch the red one while her back was turned towards him. His hopes were dashed when she got up suddenly and brought up her claws to parry the blow from his sword.

Howl's eyes widened as he had to dodge and deflect a flurry of blows from Miltia, her natural speed allowing her to catch the Dragonborn off guard despite his experience and his own agility.

He growled in frustration at the red twin's quiet determination to keep him on the defensive and at the strain the shouts placed on his mortal body. Her attacks pushed him to his normal limits as he found himself pulling every maneuver in the book as he ducked, sidestepped and parried her blows in a vain attempt to get some breathing room and pull off his own offensive.

' _Fuck this_.' he thought as he was forced to sidestep yet another blow from the crimson claws.

" **SUH GRAH DUN!** " shouted Howl, feeling his limbs begin to push themselves past their natural limits as he matched and even began to outpace Miltia's blows.

He groaned in pain at the strain of both his throat and his joints; it felt like his throat was burning from the inside and like his arms were going to be torn out of their sockets if he went any faster. That didn't stop the feeling of satisfaction from popping up, however, as he used the small burst in speed and agility to overwhelm his opponent. The tables were turned at that point as Militia found herself pulling some of the same maneuvers that the Dragonborn had pulled just seconds ago. However, her own inexperience showed as her movements didn't have the same practiced ease as Howl's did; she was likely used to being on the offensive with her twin as opposed to being forced to dodge attacks of equal or greater speed.

Several cuts and bruises later, he decided to end the fight as he began to feel the effects of the previous shout wear off, his movements slowly became more sluggish as his sore muscles were slowly brought back down to Remnant. Her calm facade at the beginning of the fight had crumbled by that point as she struggled to keep her breath and her composure.

Howl moved to stab her in her stomach and, if she weren't so exhausted, she would've known not to commit so hard at the blatant feint committed by the Dragonborn. Her jerky movement to block the lame thrust left her pretty face wide open, allowing Howl to land a decisive blow.

Miltia stumbled backwards, dazed with several cuts and bruises on her cheek from where his ringed fist landed. While he didn't have an enchantment that enhanced his unarmed ability equipped, rings still hurt like a bitch. The Dragonborn grunted as he pivoted and delivered a kick that sent the quieter of the twins crashing across the dance floor.

He sucked in short breaths and winced at the soreness of his muscles; he always hated using that particular shout but it was necessary when facing opponents who could overwhelm him with their speed. He turned towards Junior who stared at him with wide eyes behind the bar, clutching some sort of weapon that he wasn't familiar with. It resembled a long tube with some sort of projectile poking out at the end. He would have to take care of that quickly.

" **ZUN!** " the Dragonborn shouted raspily, sending the unknown weapon flying out of the boss's hands and into some other part of the bar. He made no more moves to attack the Dragonborn and watched as he slowly walked over to the prone form of Melanie who had lain forgotten on the white dance floor throughout the fight.

He grabbed her by her head and jerked her upwards roughly making her let out a painful wheeze. Howl winced at the sight of the large bruise located at where he hit her with his sword at the beginning of their little scrum but steeled his resolve and began to drag her towards the bar.

"Wh-what are you gonna do to her?" asked Junior hesitantly; he obviously cared for the two twins, definitely moreso than the rest of his gang.

"You could've just given me what I wanted. I just wanted to talk, brother. I just wanted information." rasped Howl, ignoring the question and stopping before the bar, hostage in hand.

"If I give you what you want, they'll fucking kill me. They won't even leave a speck of blood, they'll wipe me off the face of Remnant." pleaded Junior.

"And if you don't give me what I want, I'll 'fucking kill' her. I'll slice her throat open instead of crushing it like I did a minute ago. Then I'll move on to the red one. Do you other understand, brother?" said the Dragonborn in response, feeling a wave of nausea rise to his throat as he unleashed his inner Forsworn, so to speak.

Junior closed his eyes and grit his teeth, turning his head away slightly.

"Junior... Junior you're not gonna let him do that Mel, are you?" asked Miltia quietly from behind him "Junior?"

His firm expression crumbled for a bit at the sound of his beloved subordinate pleading to him before he quietly ground out "Go ahead. See if I care."

' _Dreadful business,_ _this_.' thought Howl as he released Melanie and raised his sword.

"Junior please!"

He brought down his sword and slashed at her throat, the satisfying sound of displaced air was marred by the sound of his blade breaking skin.

"Wait!" Junior cried.

Howl brought up his skyforge steel blade up to eye-level before turning his head and gazing at the club owner dispassionately, "So you're ready talk now?"

"Yes! Just- just leave her alone! You've got beef with me, not them!" shouted Junior.

"I knew you had a spine somewhere in there, Junior m'boy!" said the Dragonborn as he dropped Melanie to the floor, leaving her clutching at the thin, angry red line that appeared on her throat.

"So what do you want to know?" asked Junior gruffly, watching cagily as the tattooed man sidled up to the counter and sheathed his sword.

"Everything." he said with a chuckle.

"Do you mind if I pour us some drinks?" asked the club owner hesitantly, setting two small glasses on the counter along with a bottle of clear liquid.

"You might as well, we're business partners after all, aren't we?"

Junior ignored his last little jibe before pouring the liquid into the glasses with clean, practiced movements. Howl turned around and watched as Miltia helped up her twin and helped her out of the room. He turned back around and stared at his filled glass somewhat suspiciously before looking up at the information broker.

"It's not poisoned, is it?"

"Of course not!" said Junior defiantly, albeit with slightly widened eyes.

' _One of my rings should protect_ _me_.' thought Howl hesitantly before bringing the glass up to his lips and tilting his head back, downing the burning liquid in one gulp. Junior did the same but with a satisfied smile as opposed to a disgusted grimace.

"So who's behind the dust robberies, Junior?"

"Buddy, you don't even know what you're getting into. Walk out of this club now and I'll forget all about this, I won't even tell my superiors." said the man in question, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Save me the condescension, Junior, I can take care of myself."

"No 'brother' anymore, huh? Whatever, don't blame me if you want to run to the hills after I'm done." said Junior "Why don't you tell me what you know, or what you think you now and we'll start from there."

"Well... I know that your men have been targeting dust shops, I also know that your men have been targeting faunus-owned businesses despite them not related to the dust trade at all. I know that you're an information broker, a club owner and a lieutenant in Roman Torchwick's gang, the Will-O'-Wisps. I have several theories as to why you're doing these things-" Howl stopped speaking when he noticed Junior's shoulders shaking in a silent laugh.

"Kid, you're so off the mark I kind of almost feel bad for you but don't worry- I'll make sure to properly educate you. First off, the Will-O'-Wisps aren't Torchwick's gang, they're mine, or at least , they were. That peacock used to just be some loser in the criminal underworld, he thought of himself as some kind of gentleman thief type, you feel me? Used to run by himself too... Then a couple of years ago after being arrested he just rolls into town with some pipsqueak with a broken semblance and he starts scraping gangs left and right, trying to absorb them into his own organization."

"What was the 'pipsqueak's' semblance?" asked Howl curiously.

"I dunno, by the time he got around to trying to clean me up I just did the smart thing and I submitted to him. I knew, that despite all the numbers I amassed, it wouldn't be enough to stop that little bitch from killing me when I'm by myself in my office one day. Torchwick liked that I guess since he left me in charge of all of my boys. I don't have control over who we pick fights with but I'm still alive and so are my girls so I can't really complain, can I?" said Junior bitterly.

"Alright, so basically Roman Torchwick killed a bunch of gang leaders and assimilated their men into his organization and, when you submitted to him, he left you alive and in charge of all of those guys?" asked the Dragonborn, running down the list.

"That's basically it."

"Doesn't sound too scary to me..."

"Well I'm not finished yet. You ever hear of the White Fang?"

"I've encountered them in the past."

"No wonder you beat up on my girls so easily..." muttered Junior "Well they're behind all of the robberies, both the dust and all the faunus."

"I don't understand. It's your men doing the actual robbing, right?"

"Yeah, but who do you think came up with that idea? Why do you think our attacks are so coordinated? Why do you think we're targeting the animals specifically even when it isn't profitable?" Junior chuckled "And why the fuck would a bunch of bangers need all that dust?"

Howl looked down into the glass "So you're saying that the White Fang is willingly working with humans?"

Junior barked out a laugh "Ironic, isn't it? Looks like they're not as above us as they think they are? Heh, the way it was explained to me is that all of the small-time scrubs like my boys are supposed hit small shops and businesses to draw the attention from the authorities while the White Fang target the larger shipments."

"Oof." the Reachman said, rubbing his forehead as the implications hit him.

"Yeah. 'Oof'."

"So, why are you targeting faunus?"

The club owner crossed his arms again "I don't really know. Could be that they want us to drive them into a corner, make them feel like Vale isn't helping them. Maybe they want us to smoke out any ex-White Fang. You'd have to ask them."

' _Ex-White Fang, huh?_ ' thought Howl, thinking back to the man who sent him onto the quest in the first place.

"Where can I find them then?" asked the Dragonborn.

"That's above my pay grade."

"Okay... do you know why Torchwick and the White Fang are working together?"

"Above my pay grade."

"You don't know who introduced them? How Torchwick assumed so much power so quickly despite being a so-called 'loser'?"

"Above. My. Pay. Grade."

"So that's your limit, huh?" asked Howl in annoyance.

"Right now I have a shot at not being killed by either of you psychos. If I go any further, you'll probably find my head on your doorstep within a week." said Junior as he put away the glasses and the bottle of vodka under the counter.

"Fair enough," said the Dragonborn with a sigh before stepping back from the counter, "You have a nice club here, Junior, I'll make sure to enjoy it some other time."

"See you in another life." the club owner called out mockingly as the Reachman walked away. He would be disappointed to find out later that his poison did not work and that the Dragonborn did not end up choking on his own vomit.

* * *

Howl watched with a mischievous grin as Tukson tore down a metal grate to cover his shop's window and door while whistling a jaunty tune. The smell of ozone was in the air as clouds filled the sky, signifying that Howl would not be returning to his hotel room a dry or happy young man.

"Hard at work, I see!" said Howl after having crept up quietly behind the faunus.

Tukson dusted off his hands nonchalantly before turning around to address Howl, "I was wondering when you would speak up."

"How did you know I was behind you? Did ya smell me?" asked the Dragonborn bemusedly.

"Nah, I'm not a dog faunus; I just saw your reflection in the glass. It was kind of creepy actually." said the shop owner before walking to the entrance to the upper floors of the store front "Come on, let's get inside before we get drenched. Don't want no prying eyes either."

Howl shrugged in assent before sidling up to his business partner and watching boredly as he unlocked the door and walked into the building and up the dingy stairwell.

"Do you own the whole building?" he asked curiously, looking around at the scenery which mostly consisted of walls with aged, white-turned-yellow wallpaper that was peeling at the edges.

"Nope. I just rent out the storefront and a shitty apartment upstairs. The guy I rent 'em from seems nice enough but I'm pretty sure he just lets me stay here because he thinks I'll scare away the rats or something." Tukson answered with a shrug and an easy grin.

"So you're a cat faunus then?"

"I guess you could say that... There's not really different types of faunus- some social theorist slash intellectual decided that it would be a bad idea for us faunus to divide ourselves into different categories. But I do share some traits with pumas: I have claws, night vision, et cetera, et cetera..." he explained before he stopped at a door at the top of the stairs "Here we are. Home sweet home."

Howl poked his around Tukson's burly form and peered into the dark apartment before whistling lowly "You weren't lying when you said it was shitty, brother."

"Ah shut up." said Tukson gruffly before walking into the living room and flipping on a light switch "The only person who can insult my apartment besides me is my mom. And maybe my boyfriend if I ever get one."

The Beacon student chuckled politely even though he couldn't relate to either of those sentiments: the woman who gave birth to him couldn't really be called a mother and didn't care about those sorts of things. She wouldn't care if his apartment was filled to the brim with books, some discarded pizza boxes and envelopes containing bills like Tukson's was. As long as you contributed to the tribe (read: killed their enemies) the hagravens and those blessed by Hircine didn't care about what you did with your living space. They didn't care who you slept with either, as long as you contributed to the growth and expansion of the tribe when the time came. No pun intended.

"I wasn't really planning on settling down in Vale, I only planned on stopping here for a little while before moving onto Vacuo. But the weather here agrees with me and I got my shop at a pretty decent price. Plus, back then, crime wasn't as bad." explained the shop owner sheepishly as he picked up a stray book and set it down onto one off the various stacks of literature that littered the room.

"You were planning on moving around with all of these books?" asked Howl while poking one of the taller stacks and watching with amusement as it tilted back and forth precariously.

"Every man has his vices. Now, enough about my bad habits, did you get the info? You don't look that scuffed up. Besides that jacked-up smile... damn, you look like a hockey player."

"Yeah I did. It's - uh - it's worse than you thought, brother, you might want to take a seat."

"How so?" asked Tukson grimly before dropping back onto one of the crowded couches and motioning the Dragonborn to sit on the one across from him.

"Where to begin?" wondered Howl with a sigh as he shoved some debris aside and settled down onto the surprisingly comfortable cushion "Apparently, Torchwick gained the allegiance of some tiny assassin used them to assassinate gang leaders and take control of their men. That's how he expanded so quickly, I guess... Junior bent the knee to him instead of being skewered so Torchwick rewarded him by sparing him and letting him control all the small-time, day-to-day operations of the Will-O'-Wisps."

Howl stopped and watched worriedly as Tukson buried his head in his hands before continuing.

"Also, Torchwick is working with the White Fang."

He watched with a sort of morbid curiosity as the bookstore owner jumped to his feet suddenly and began to pace furiously in a circle with a hand pressed to his forehead, unconsciously avoiding stacks of books. His reaction may have indicated that he feared the civil rights/terrorist organization... or it confirmed a particular theory that Howl had.

"Junior said that Torchwick is using the gang members for small-time shop robberies to serve as a big distraction for the law so that the White Fang can target large dust shipments more easily. As for why members of your community are being targeted, he thought that his underlings were being ordered to do so in order to drive your fellow faunus into a corner and radicalize them," he watched as Tukson stopped and looked at him with barely-restrained hope, "or... to smoke out any former 'Fang members-"

"Fuck, shit, fuck, shit..." muttered the faunus as he went back to pacing a hole in his floor.

"-such as yourself." Howl finished.

Tukson turned towards the Dragonborn slowly before sighing, his form deflating like a balloon.

"I guess that was pretty easy to figure out, huh?" he said resignedly, flopping back onto the couch.

"The thought didn't occur to me until Junior spilled his guts to me." Howl admitted with a shrug.

"Spilled his guts... you didn't kill him did you?" asked Tukson curiously.

"Brother- do I look like a murderer to you?"

The ex-White Fang member gave him a flat stare, though the Reachman imagined that he was specifically looking at his tattoos and scars.

"Right... should not have asked that." muttered Howl dejectedly "I didn't, by the way."

"Good... good..." said Tukson absentmindedly, staring up at the ceiling tiredly. The pair sat in a silence for a while, both contemplating their pasts while also planning their futures.

 ** _QUEST COMPLETED_ : Nothing but the Truth**

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Howl, bored with the silence.

"I guess I'll have to tell everyone." said Tukson thoughtfully while scratching at one of his prominent sideburns. The rustling sound filled the quiet room.

"Everyone?"

"What? Did you think I was the only ex-Fang member in Vale? Or that I was on the only guy with a chip on his shoulder about Torchwick's thugs throwing their weight around in his neighborhood?"

Howl thought for a moment "Hobbes?"

"Yep."

"Huh."

"Aw man, he's gonna be such a dick about this..." groaned Tukson.

"What do you mean?" asked Howl.

"When we all came together and decided as a group that we would abandon the White Fang after Ghira was put out to pasture and forced to return to the Menagerie, we agreed that we would separate so that we would be less easier to track. The thing is that I was the main guy pushing that policy, Hobbes thought that we should stick together to continue the Fang's original mission of fighting for our rights peacefully and to find protection in numbers as opposed to obscurity." explained the bookstore owner.

"So when you mean that you're going to tell everyone..."

Tukson sighed "Yep. The gang's getting back together."

"Huh." Howl repeated.

"Listen," started Tukson slowly "I know you're gonna be busy and Beacon's gonna be working you to the bone but someone with even a tiny bit of huntsman training can turn the tide in a street fight. We really could use someone like you, someone who's willing to walk into the den of one of Vale's biggest criminals for us."

Howl sighed.

"Just come to our meeting, see who turns up, listen to what we have to say. We might even have another huntsman-trained person show up, so you might not even have to join us." continued the bookstore owner.

"Fine, fine..." said the Dragonborn "Just don't expect me to participate in your war too much, I'll have assignments after all."

Tukson chuckled as he pulled out his scroll "Sure, sure... I'll text you the details as soon as I get a solid estimation of how many people are coming."

Howl yawned tiredly before rising from the couch and exiting the dingy apartment, offering a lazy wave as he left the room.

Before he closed the door he heard Tukson utter the following words into his scroll: "Blake. We need to talk."

* * *

Jaune groaned as his sore feet impacted against the concrete. Stores were beginning to close under the starless sky and, even after a whole day of walking around his neighborhood and even the surrounding communities, he had still not found a store that would be willing to take him on as a worker. Some were worried that they wouldn't be able to afford to take on another employee on top of the insurance they were forced to pay for due to the recent robberies, others didn't have any spots open for him and some just proclaimed that he wasn't experienced enough.

' _How experienced does someone have to be carry around boxes?_ ' thought Jaune grumpily before stopping before a shop that was still open.

The red and blue 'OPEN' neon sign flickered weakly while another sign that read 'DUST DUST DUST' in a multitude of colors corresponding to each type of dust still shone brightly with a strength that the previous sign lacked. His mom warned him not to go work for dust shops but it looked like it sold a little bit of everything and he was thirsty from walking around all day so he decided to stop by quickly to buy a bottle of soda with what little pocket change he had.

The door chime rang softly as he entered the shop; a young man with tied back, dyed blonde hair shot him a look before going back to lazily puffing on his cigarette and idly flipping through a weapon's magazine. Jaune shot a brief, forlorn look at the colorful dust tubes positioned on the wall along with a series of huntsman magazines before he shook his head and continued on to the back of the shop where all the fridges were stuffed against the wall.

Jaune idly made clicking noises with his mouth as he perused through the options: iced tea in a plastic jug, milk, chocolate milk, vanilla milk, strawberry milk... As he finally reached the fridge that contained small doses of diabetes in a can he heard the door chime sound once again throughout the shop. He ignored it as he picked out the small red can that contained his preferred drink.

"How can I help ya?" he heard a voice (presumably the cashier's) call out as he made his way around the end of the aisle and towards the counter. But the scene before him made him stop in his tracks.

Three men in black suits with red ties and red sunglasses were mobbed around the cashier who was nonchalantly blowing cigarette smoke in their faces; it might have been a general belief that he could take them on that fueled the shopkeeper's actions or it could have just been that he wasn't paid enough to give a fuck about what the men in suits might do. The men in suits were of course the gangsters that were taken down by that schoolgirl in the article that Jaune read so, like any sane human being in a situation like that, he forcibly prevented his bladder from unleashing its contents onto his poor jeans and hastily hid behind the aisle before they could spot him.

"You can help us by giving us all the dust you got." replied one of the thugs smugly while the rest of his compatriots sniggered.

"Okay. You paying?" replied the shopkeeper which made Jaune simultaneously question his sanity and respect the hell out of him.

"You know damn well we're not paying, now are you gonna lead one my boys to where you store the rest or are we gonna have to beat the information outta ya?"

The little girl from the news would've stopped them which made Jaune feel slightly ashamed as he hid behind an aisle full of potato chips. He knew his sisters would beat the crap out of him just to remind him how dangerous little girls really were but he couldn't help it.

If it were a comic book, no- if it were real life, a hero would step out of his (or her) hiding place and apologize for being late then beat the crap out of the criminals without breaking a sweat.

But-

' _Why I can't I move my legs?!_ ' thought Jaune, his form shaking as his desire to do the right thing and his own natural cowardice duked it out.

He grit his teeth and he balled his hands up so tightly that his nails bit into his palm. He tried to convince himself that the liquid running down his cheeks was sweat.

' _Move! Damn it!_ ' Jaune urged to his legs silently

He took one step. Then another. Then another. His body waging war against his mind as he fought for every inch of the linoleum flooring. By the time he formed another thought he found himself facing the gang members and the shopkeeper whose cigarette had almost fallen out of his mouth as he watched the teen struggle to drag himself across the floor of his store.

"Hey! L-leave him alone!" Jaune cried weakly.

That's when the lights cut out.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here it is, ladies and gentlemen, or whatever you identify as. It took a while but it's finally out so...**

 **New story. Sword in the Stone. Check that out, I think it's pretty cool.**

 **Anyways time for review replies.**

 **zack32: I'm glad you liked the fight scene, Howl's a hero but he was also raised as a member of the Forsworn and had to survive Skyrim as a teenager so he can be pretty ruthless. As for his semblance, I'll give you a hint and say that it has to do with the abilities of a specific character in the series.**

 **Guest: Not sure what a Robert is lol. I'm glad you like the pacing, that was something I was worried about when planning the story because we haven't gotten to Beacon quite yet but it seems to be doing alright. And yeah, Jaune does have a role, I didn't like throwing him away just so Howl could go to Beacon.**

 **coduss: I don't play God of War but I looked up Mimir and it sounds like he has a Irish/Scottish accent. The Reachmen are supposed to be influenced by Irish culture so I decided to give Howl an Irish accent.**

 **Chapter 7:** Much Ado About a Lot of Things

* * *

Blake's ears twitched uncomfortably under her bow as she gazed at the gathering of humans and faunus outside of the old Brothers' church in Central Vale. She expected there to only be ex-White Fang members such as herself and Tukson present but there were also some Vale faunus that she didn't recognize as well as some humans. Most of them stuck with their respective groups but a lot of them were intermingling, smoking and laughing together. Overall, it wasn't a scene that was too suspicious; they wouldn't be visited by the police anytime soon.

She sent some quiet nods towards her former comrades, not caring if any of them saw her greeting them as she pushed open the large red doors of the church, stopping only to examine the two statues flanking the entrance. A formless, androgynous person with antlers on their head, representing the elder brother-god of light, and a smaller form with ram horns (the younger brother) stood on pedestals in the wall, their arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. That didn't make her feel any less skittish, however.

The door opened with a loud groan that resounded throughout the church thanks to its excellent acoustics and she stood there awkwardly as every head in the room turned towards her with curiosity. Most turned back to their conversations while some of their gazes lingered, she recognized some of them from operations in Vale area so sent them a small wave their way causing them to nod back in response before going back to their hushed discussions, their whispers being carried throughout the great structure. The atmosphere was a lot tenser than the one outside: several groups had formed, each occupying sections of the long wooden pews that took up most of the space in the center of the room. She could make out a short, familiar figure in dark green robes skittering around between the groups, exchanging greetings and welcomes before moving onto the next delegation. Before she could investigate, Blake was accosted by a pair of large, hairy arms that had wrapped themselves around her in a suffocating hug.

"I'm so glad you could make it, kitten." rumbled Tukson in relief.

"Please don't call me that, Tukson." muttered Blake as she hesitantly turned around and wrapped her arms around his large form.

"You know I'm just messing with ya." he said with a low chuckle before letting go of her and taking a small moment to examine her "You've grown a couple of inches."

"No I haven't. And what am I? A relative at a family reunion?" she asked as she crossed her arms.

"We might as well be relatives: we've got the same black hair, the same love of books, the same yellow eyes... Need I go on?"

"I'm pretty sure a shared hobby isn't a sign that we're related." Blake said dryly before she continued with a small smile "It's good to see you, Tukson."

"Damn right it is. It's good to see you too Blake." he said with a small sigh "Come, come, you look so thin, have some food, have some coffee!"

He gently herded her to a set of tables that were pressed against the grey stone wall. Several containers of hot coffee and plates of donuts and bagels were set on the portable plastic tables that one could usually find in rec centers. Blake's mouth watered involuntarily at the sight and she wasted no time in grabbing a plate and filling it with a tack of powdered and sprinkled donuts, and, though she preferred tea, she also grabbed a cup and filled it with the pitch black liquid, not bothering to put sugar or cream in it.

She blushed and turned slowly towards Tukson who had an amused grin on his face.

"It's hard living on your own, you know..." Blake explained quietly, taking a composed sip from her cup before wincing in pain at the heat.

"Don't I know it. And don't worry about it, it's all coming out of my gracious business partner's wallet so go wild." said the puma faunus.

She chewed thoughtfully before swallowing and inquiring "Business partner?"

Tukson blinked before gesturing towards the familiar figure making the rounds "Howl. You might've seen him on the news before..."

Blake's eyes widened as it finally hit her: he was the person who stopped the White Fang at Brothers' Refuge, he was the person who had helped the Bulwark Protests succeed. Her former comrade saw her expression and smiled slightly.

"He's sketchy and definitely at least a little crazy but he's a good kid underneath that funky exterior. Plus... when I look into his eyes, I feel like- I feel like he understands us. Us ex Ex-White Fang, I mean. He's just got that look about him. Like he's tired, like he's burdened by a past that he can't escape. But he still fights anyways..."

"I'll take your word for it.." said Blake in response to Tukson's slightly nonsensical explanation causing them to enter a contemplative silence as they surveyed the room and observed the young man quietly.

"You'd have to interact with Howl to understand." said Tukson with a sigh before looking at her curiously "Say, you're still planning on going to Beacon, right?"

"That is the plan." said the cat faunus simply, taking one last sip of coffee before looking around for a trash can.

"Well he's going too. He'd be a good friend to have over there. Who knows? You might even end up on the same team!"

Blake remained silent. She found the prospect of having even one of her future classmates knowing about her past uncomfortable.

"Just think it over, kitten." said Tukson, reading her expression perceptively before clapping her on the shoulder "I've got to round up the stragglers, we can talk later, okay? After the meeting is over."

"Don't call me that."

Blake turned and watched him exit the church with a contemplative expression on her face before her attention was captured by a pair of signs positioned nonchalantly by the door. They both had symbols made up of a circle with the letters 'N' and 'A' positioned stylistically side-by-side within them, below the symbols was the name: "Narcotics Anonymous." She rolled her eyes with a quirk of her lips at that; Tukson was a good fighter but his true skills lay elsewhere. He was always good at coming up with ways to disguise their meetings back when they were in the White Fang. Usually, organizers went with the cliché abandoned warehouse setting but he always found some clever and unique way to throw the authorities off of their scent.

' _It's a good trick_...' Blake decided, gazing at the room full of sunken-eyed people seeking to improve themselves after a dreadful past.

The groaning of the doors resounded throughout the church once more as Tukson and his flock entered the structure, he shot her a quick grin as he walked hurriedly to the ornate podium positioned in the apse. Stained glass windows displaying scenes such as the Gods' departure from Remnant and the shattering of the Moon illuminated the puma faunus with brilliant colors thanks to the sunlight. While Tukson got ready to speak, she noticed Howl sitting down in one of the front pews, crossing one leg over the other as he casually waited his turn.

She took as seat in one of the pews closest to the entrance, wanting to avoid any attention from the other occupants of the church. Blake watched as Tukson tapped the microphone set up on the podium, causing the sharp sound of feedback to resound throughout the room.

He ignored the shouts of protests as he leaned into the mic "Is this thing on?"

The shouts of protest turned into a shouts of agreement and a raised thumbs-up from Howl.

"Alright, good. Well, thanks for coming out, everyone! I know this was all kind of sudden: me calling all of you but I assure you that it's all for a good reason. Now, we're all coming from different backgrounds and, in a normal world, we wouldn't even be interacting with each other much less meeting in a damn church. We got ex-White Fang, we got ex-gang members, we got just some regular Valean citizens just looking to make a difference and we got whatever the hell you are." Tukson finished, pointing at Howl and earning some chuckles from the crowd from those who weren't busy looking into the crowd with wary expressions.

That was another one of Tukson's talents, his most impressive one, in fact. Despite his gruff exterior, he was the type of guy that could make friends with anyone, anywhere and he always had a large group of people who 'owed him one.' Many a White Fang operation had been salvaged due to his ability to call on someone to do him a solid.

"Ok, Tukson! So why the hell are we all here! You know it isn't safe for us to meet out in the open like this!" cried one of her former comrades in the audience.

"Let me finish, Raoul... What do we all have in common? One guy: Roman Torchwick. To my Valean friends in the audience: that gentleman thief or whatever has moved into our neighborhoods with the grace of a gorilla, wrecking our mom-and-pop shops and stepping all over us. To the former gang-members: guess who's moving onto your blocks? Torchwick. Guess who's been killing your beloved bosses? That's right, Torchwick. And to my fellow comrades, you might be feeling a little bit left out right now, huh? But that dandy's been the one targeting our neighborhoods, driving us to the wall." he paused for dramatic effect "He's the one that's been working with the White Fang, supplying them with dust and smoking out any deserters such as ourselves. So don't you think for one minute that this isn't our fight!"

That got the audience riled up, some people were shouting at the fact that the Fang was moving into the city, some were shouting at the possibility of the Fang working with a lowly human like Torchwick while some, she imagined, were shouting for the sake of shouting. Up at the podium, Tukson was tapping his fingers impatiently, waiting for the ruckus to die down. Howl had turned around and was watching the chaos with an amused smile on his face.

As for Blake, she simply sat there in disbelief, taking in the atmosphere of the room with a detached expression on her face.

The sound of mic feedback resounded throughout the room once more causing the pandemonium to cease "You done?" Tukson called out like an elementary school teacher waiting for their rowdy class to calm down.

"How- How do we know that's true?" asked Raoul, disbelief clear in his tone of voice.

To be honest, Blake found the information that Tukson sprung on herself and her former comrades to be unbelievable as well. She, probably more than anyone in that room, knew what went on in the head of the leader of the White Fang's Vale cells. He already found humans to be scum so, if they were in fact scum, then Torchwick was lower than scum. Not to mention the fact that they had already heard of the man before and actually mocked him. Several times. It was too easy with his sense of "style".

"I was getting to that, friend." said Tukson gruffly (he only called people 'friend' if they annoyed him), motioning towards someone in the front row of the crowd to come to the podium, "Allow me to introduce my... colleague. You may have heard of him from the Brothers' Refuge incident where he rescued local villagers from a rogue White Fang cell. You may have also heard of him from the Bulwark protests where he aided the local faunus labor movement and helped the prevent the S.D.C-" he paused and waited for the jeers and boos to end, "-from purchasing the town's mines and forcing their discriminatory and harmful practices on our brothers and sisters in Bulwark. I personally know him as the young man who has been preventing and investigating the dust robberies in Central Vale. Please give it up for Howl!"

A polite smattering of applause followed Tukson's hype-up speech as the figure in strange green robes walked up to the podium and adjusted the microphone so that it would be better suited for someone of his height. Blake always imagined that the person that she once saw on the news would be taller but he might have been shorter than her. Nonetheless, to his credit, he did carry himself with some sort of pride despite his diminutive stature and didn't seem to be bothered by the fact that he was the target of so many stares, some more skeptical than others. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I wish that I was half as impressive as Tukson made me out to be." Howl began, his surprisingly deep voice and strange brogue filling the room, inducing some polite chuckles from the audience, "Right, I'm not here to make jokes, I'm here to present the information I've discovered in my investigations and convince you all that that information is, in fact, correct. Allow me to begin by addressing some of your concerns with the validity of our claims."

He paused and took am moment to sweep his silver gaze across the room, only noticeably pausing to target the left side of the church specifically. It was where the White Fang members sat so they were likely the most skeptical group.

"Some of you who may have some lingering sense of loyalty or affection for the White Fang and its ideals might find our claims to not only be preposterous, but insulting as well. I realize that the possibility of your former comrades working with the dredges of humanity could induce such feelings so I only ask that you bear with me as I go over my investigations." said the young man, his tone conveying a sense of understanding and professionalism that belied his outlandish appearance.

"i also recognize that I'm an unknown for most of you here which could call into question how authentic I am or how committed I am to everyone's best interests. Usually, I'd let my actions speak for themselves but I'll make an exception for this time. To the faunus in the room, while it would be ignorant of me to say that I completely understand your struggle and what you're going through, I am able to empathize with you all. These ugly tattoos on my face aren't just for show: they are a symbol of my tribal and ethnic identity, something which I have been discriminated against for in the past. To the Vale residents in the room, I understand what it's like for groups to move in and oppress your communities. My people have long endured a struggle to free our homeland from outside influence." said Howl, clearing his throat and pausing at the the murmuring that filled the room.

Blake concluded that he did seem sincere; tribes that fought back against the influence of the Four Kingdoms were still reasonably common even after attempts (either forceful or diplomatic) had been made to assimilate them within the various federal Frontier systems of the kingdoms. They (the tribals), even if they belonged to assimilated communities were looked down upon and were seen as savages by many people, even faunus. While his argument was a bit of a stretch, it seemed to win over much of the crowd, herself included.

"But enough about me, eh? That's not hwy we're here, that's not why I'm her. Tukson made some claims and I'm here to back them up. A couple of days ago I began my investigations by visiting Junior, the owner of the club, 'Rumor', Vale's most premier information broker and Torchwick's lieutenant within the Will-O'-Wisps. There I found out some very important information."

"How'd you get anything out of Junior? You know, since he's one of Torchwick's goons..." one of the humans in the church, a bald heavyset man, wondered aloud.

"Let's just say that Junior's two biggest weapons will be out of commission for a while..." said Howl coyly, pausing to let the implication set in.

"Respect." said the human with a satisfied nod.

"Back to what I was saying... right, here's what I found out: Torchwick has an assassin loyal to him whom he has used to dissolve and absorb local gangs as well as their territories in Central Vale, this began after he was freed from prison by an unknown party. He has since then used his newfound strength and influence to target dust shops in order to, one, provide the White Fang with Dust and, two, provide a smokescreen for the Fang's larger operations centered around dust shipments sent by the Schnee Dust Company and other corporations." the room then was filled with protests from the left side of the church before Howl crushed any dissent, "Oi, shut up! Let me finish, by the Nine... As I was saying... in addition to dust shop robberies, many of which have taken place in primarily faunus neighborhoods, he has used his gang to target faunus communities to smoke out any White Fang traitors and radicalize faunus by driving them into the arms of the White Fang."

Howl took a deep breath, relishing in the shocked silence following his proclamations. Blake felt sick to her stomach, working with humans was one thing, but using them to target faunus- the people they were supposed to be fighting for? She didn't want to believe, she couldn't...

"I wouldn't have come up here if I didn't have sources besides someone I've fought with to back up my arguments. First of all, by using crime and police response statistics collected by Tukson, one can see that Torchwick targets faunus neighborhoods and how vulnerable they are because of a lack of adequate police protection or abuse from the police themselves. In addition to some research, Tukson and I have also consorted with multiple other information brokers to confirm Junior's information."

A heavy silence settled over the gathered group for a few minutes before someone spoke up, "So what the hell are we supposed to do now that you've dumped all that shit on our lap?"

"That's where Tukson comes back into play." answered Howl, stepping away from the podium but not sitting back down as the bookstore owner took his place in front of the microphone.

"Hello again everyone." said Tukson, his voice quieter than last time as he decided not to adjust the height of the mic, "So when a bunch of people decided to part ways with the Fang, after much debate we decided that the best way to reintegrate ourselves into society in a way that would keep us safe would be for us to go our separate ways and maintain minimal amounts of contact. However, I underestimated how aggressively the Fang would pursue us so, given our current circumstances, we obviously need to take a completely different approach to keeping ourselves safe. That is to say that, since being hidden is no longer an option, we need to fight back as a group!"

Muttering broke out once more, the sound of heated whispers and frustrated curses filled the church as the people occupying it realized what Tukson was proposing. Blake sighed, it was one thing to leave the White Fang... but to actively fight against it?

"That's why I invited everyone else to this meeting, comrades. We are all being hurt in one way or another by the Fang it's obvious that we're stronger together than we are apart... so why not turn that loose connection into something constructive? Why don't we come together to defend ourselves and our communities?" he asked-no-demanded, slamming a furry hand on the podium for good measure.

The sound of a throat being cleared was barely picked up by the mic but Blake heard it anyways. Tukson stepped to the side and allowed Howl to take the podium once more.

The tribesman sighed, "Forgive me if I'm speaking out of turn here but I'm assuming that most of us here are here because we've made horrible mistakes in the past- mistakes that have hurt other people. I know I have. We also wouldn't be here if we didn't think that we committed those mistakes in the first place. Up until now, most of you haven't confronted those mistakes-" his eyes swept over his audience and paused when they reached her, "-you've just run away, having others bear the burden of the effects of your past actions."

Blake's amber eyes widened in shock, ' _Does he know? No... it's not_ _possible..._ '

"So now we're offering you all an opportunity to use your skills for something good. We're offering you all a chance to take responsibility for your actions."

He stepped way from the mic, leaving a mostly silent and contemplative audience for Tukson to deal with, though Blake could hear some angry whispers from the left side of the room. She could understand how they felt: they were being asked to work with humans, the people that took part in their oppression, and they were also being scolded by a human. It was a bold tactic that resonated with most of the room but it was also polarizing and alienating to certain people.

"Alright, we know that this is a lot to take in so we'll be taking a short break." Tukson began before pausing with a frown, "Though we do have to ask those who aren't interested in our proposition to leave. This is for both of our sake and you can always join later if you change your mind. You all have my scroll number, after all."

Blake watched sadly as Tukson left the podium and walked towards the entrance to the church, she wasn't going to enjoy what was about to come. She watched as some people all across the room, human and faunus, debated amongst themselves before standing up and marching to the door, looking anywhere else besides the people staring at them, betrayal and accusation clear in their gazes.

One by one, people left the church but not before laying into Tukson or looking to the ground in shame.

"I can't believe you're asking us to work with humans!" one faunus hissed.

"Sorry Tukson, but this is fucking crazy and you know it." another said with a shake of their head.

"Sorry, dude." a human apologized simply, not offering any type of excuse.

The bookstore owner took it all in stride though, replying with messages of understanding and forgiveness but those messages stopped when he saw her. His eyes widened slightly before drooping sadly, a sad sort of understanding radiating from his hazel eyes. That made Blake feel even worse.

"Tukson, I..." Blake began but her friend held up a hand, interrupting her.

"Kitten, don't worry, I completely understand." he said, offering her a smile that didn't quite reach his sad eyes. The cat faunus wondered if he was angry with her.

"I'm sorry Tukson but there's no way he-the White Fang would work with someone like Roman Torchwick." she said tonelessly, ducking her head to avoid his gaze as she walked away.

But she didn't miss the way his eyes widened once more in surprise before narrowing in anger. And she didn't miss the words he uttered as she left.

"Damn it Adam, look what you did to her..."

* * *

"What the fuck?!" one of the thugs shouted, his silhouette looking back and forth, searching for both Jaune and whoever cut the lights of the store.

"Was that you, you little shit?!" another one of the robber screamed, her smoky, feminine voice bouncing throughout the aisles. Apparently there were more robbers arriving...

Jaune blinked his eyes rapidly, attempting to adjust his eyes to the sudden darkness that enveloped him. His slight sigh of relief when his vision began to clear turned into an unmanly squeak of fear as he saw two thugs making their way slowly to him, their arms extended in a vain attempt to prevent them from bumping into things. A trail of bags of chips and gift cards trailed them as they shambled ungracefully to the teenager. His blue eyes shifted right and he could just barely make out the form of the shopkeeper slowly stepping way from the counter, his back bumping into rows of cigarette packets.

The Arc was once again frozen in fear as he watched the criminals shamble their way towards him; the way they walked with their arms extended reminded him of a pair of zombies searching of a nice brain to feast on. Jaune balled up his hands into fists and steeled himself, mentally preparing himself to get into a real fight with real criminals that could really kill him.

' _Oh Gods..._ '

The sound of something flicking could be heard within the aisle in front of him causing the pair to pause in their tracks, halting their intimidating approach so that they could look for the source of the strange and possibly threatening noise.

A small yet dangerous gout of flame suddenly enveloped their heads, illuminating their features in a way that wasn't quite healthy. The scene was like an old slapstick cartoon as the two goons looked at each other in disbelief and shock for a second before they both shrieked shrilly and ran away from the aisle, coming close to tripping over each other. The sound of insane cackling immediately followed the comedic scene as a hooded figure followed them out of the aisle.

"Whoa, I'm such a badass..." said the figure reverently, his face concealed by a green bandana, and a can of aerosol something and a zippo lighter carefully clutched in his gloved hands. A pair of sand colored ears poked out of strategically placed holes in the hood, denoting the man as a faunus. He either didn't notice Jaune or he just forgot about him as he literally shook himself free from his self-congratulatory revery to pursue his prey.

The two goons had taken the slight pause in hostilities to slap themselves free of the chemical flames, huddling fearfully behind their two other fellow thugs. The two remaining robbers who hadn't been attacked yet looked uncertain, forming a semicircle around their colleagues as they tried to discern where the next attack would come from. Their eyes swept from the windows to the aisles to the faunus with the sputtering, makeshift flamethrower before restarting their circuit once more. It was too bad they didn't bother to check the vents.

They- Jaune included- didn't notice the thumping sounds coming from above them until too late when a metal grate slammed noisily into the ground causing Jaune and the thugs to ump out of their respective skins. Though, thankfully, the thugs were the only ones who were jumped as a large figure landed in front of the criminals on top of the grate. The man was huge and looked like he had the muscular build of a rugby player, albeit one with small claws extending from their hands. He wore a teal windbreaker with a tall collar, a beanie that may or may not have been used to conceal his hypothetical ears and the same green bandana that the crazy flamethrower guy used to conceal most of his face.

The wasted no time in dispatching the thugs, taking advantage of their fear and shock to land a couple of quick, brutal blows to their heads, knocking them out and surely leaving marks thanks to his claws. His compatriot seemed amused by the casual display of skillful brutality, letting out a few indulgent chuckles at the sight of the four criminals crumpled on the ground like a basket of sleeping kittens.

Jaune let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, slightly glad that he didn't have to do any sort of fighting as he surely would've had to have been mopped off the floor by the time the thugs were finished with him. The shopkeeper was less pleased however, letting loose a gasp at the sight of his merchandise strewn all over the floor and the smell of burnt skin and hair filling the air.

"Who-who the hell are you people?" he asked, shocked. Any trace of the bravado he displayed when confronted by the robbers was completely gone by then.

The larger man looked at the shopkeeper before sighing heavily, his friend muttering a series of curse words that would've gotten Jaune kicked out of the house if he ever dared to utter them in his mom's presence.

A sense of dread emanated from his gut as he observed the strange reactions of the figures to the shopkeeper's questions.

"Sorry about this, but it's for your own good!" a chipper feminine voice called out from behind the counter.

"Huh?" uttered the shopkeeper intelligently before collapsing into a third figure with a green bandana also covering their lower face.

"What the hell!" Jaune blurted out at the sight causing them to turn his way, "You guys are robbers too?!"

The figures in green turned to each other, holding a silent conversation before nodding resolutely and advancing slowly on the teenager.

"Let's not do anything drastic, 'kay?" asked the woman adopting a fluid stance.

"I'll-I'll fight you!" declared Jaune, his eyes darting around wildly for any sort of advantage as he adopted an admittedly crappy fighting stance.

"Let's not do anything drastic, kid, this is for your own good." said the husky figure, his hazel eyes glowing menacingly beneath his beanie.

"You're kidding, right?" asked Jaune, his back bumping against the row of fridges, "How is sucker punching me 'for my own good'?"

"Just trust me, okay? It'll be easier for all of us."

"Yeah. Okay. Sure. I'll trust you."

"Really?" asked the faunus skeptically.

Jaune looked back into the three pairs of eyes staring at him before running down the refrigerator aisle, sweeping six-packs and bottles off the shelf and onto the floor.

"Gods damn it..." one of them muttered.

Jaune took a hard right at he fridge containing frozen meals, running along the store's far wall towards its front window before the woman slid into view three shelves down. Jaune's eyes widened and he quickly turned around only to see the flamethrower guy waiting by the fridges and the big man stalking down the aisle closest towards the teenager.

"Hold him down!" bellowed out the big guy, causing Jaune to look around wildly in a panic, unable to do anything as the two other people marched down towards him.

"No!" he shouted futilely as their hands gripped his arms and forced him to bend down to his knees.

"Please-" a stray slap interrupted her "-stop struggling!"

"Seriously-" another slap interrupted the flamethrower guy, causing him to growl in frustration, "Seriously, due, you're starting to piss me off..."

The big man sighed before crouching to Jaune's eye-level, "As amusing as this is, can't you hold him down any tighter? The quicker the better, don't want to permanently injure him, after all."

"He's surprisingly strong." remarked the girl with a grunt, "Can't you just get on with it? We've got places to be."

He sighed once more, "Yeah, alr-"

He didn't get to finish is reply, though. At that moment one of Jaune's arms broke free from flamethrower guy's grip. At that moment, Jaune's fist was sent flying towards the big man's unprepared face.

At that moment, the man's mask was torn down, displaying a square jaw and an impressive pair of sideburns.

The big guy's hazel eyes widened before narrowing angrily.

"Kid, you just fucked up royally." he said simply, standing back up.

Jaune gulped fearfully.

"Tie him up, we're taking him with us."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all for the continued support, it's crazy to me that this story has 68 reviews.**

 **Not a very Howl-heavy chapter but we do get some more characters and their perspectives mixed in so there's that...**

 **Let me know if I've made any grammatical errors.**

 **Don't know what else to say so...**

 **Please continue reviewing, I'm going to get better at replying to them, I promise. And stick around for the next scene.**

* * *

The boxes of donuts and the huge containers of hot coffee were empty by then.

A silence settled over the group causing Tukson to briefly contemplate calling another break. It had been a long time since the last one and they accomplished more than he thought they would be able to.

"So what are we gonna call ourselves?" asked the big-boned human, Rusty.

Silence resumed one more as the planners tiredly contemplated the new question. Tukson's eyes slid over to the signs he procured posted by the entrance.

"How about the Neighborhood Association?" asked the organizer with a sly grin.

The sound of the chruch's occupants turning towards the sign filled the room before being replaced by a series of exasperated groans.


End file.
